It's Complicated
by lynn770
Summary: It should have been simple. She just needed to blow off some steam. It was just supposed to be a drink or maybe two and some casual sex. But when Olivia goes home with an unexpected man, complications follow, including a broken condom and coitus interruptus by a roommate. Or is he a committed partner? Olivia Benson / Ed Tucker / Trevor Langan Tuckson Plus Ménage
1. Chapter 1

After a couple of odd questions I have received, it occurred to me that perhaps the story summary is not visible in all apps. So just a little author's note for clarification: This is a menage story, specifically MMF, and as such will contain sexual encounters between both men as well as the female lead character.

 **It's Complicated**

Complicated: Adjective 1. composed of elaborately interconnected parts; complex: _complicated apparatus for measuring brain functions._ 2\. difficult to analyze, understand, explain, etc.: _a complicated problem._ Synonyms: complex, difficult, intricate, thorny, convoluted, **full of twists and turns** …

Prologue September 2007

"So, tell me," he said, relaxing back against the pillows, his normally perfect brown hair slightly tousled, one arm slung casually behind his head and the other laying relaxed across his flat abdomen. "Who's your ideal woman?"

"Why do you ask?" came the quick reply from his bedmate, trying to catch a breath and rolling over into a similar position.

"Just scoping out the competition," he replied with a smile and a slight turn of his head, showing the twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Seriously?" his companion replied, an incredulous expression accompanying the confirmation. "YOU would be jealous of a woman?"

"No. I'm teasing you," he said with a grin. "Actually, I'm kind of asking because this seems to be a good thing between us and I would like to, perhaps, make this a slightly more permanent situation…" he paused, knowing he wanted to broach this subject but not really sure how to go about it with his cautious lover. "I'd like to be exclusive," he stated boldly, then he rocked his head sideways a little then started to hedge, "Well, except, look, we both like women and I have no problem with the two of us picking up one and bringing them home, IF we're together and in agreement, but what if we're not?"

"Together or in agreement?" his companion asked, carefully, wondering where this conversation was going.

"Well, either. Actually, let's back up a minute," he said, turning on his side in the bed and looking directly into his blue eyes, which were closer to an ice blue than his own darker tint. "How would you feel about moving in together?"

"You want to live together?" his companion asked quietly.

"Would that be a problem for you?" his question direct and to the point, but before giving him a chance to answer, he continued, "Your kids aren't in the picture. I've never seen you socialize with anyone from work in your home, so there would be no reason to bring it up if you didn't want anyone to know. I don't mind. It just seems like it would be more convenient for both of us rather than having one of us have to run home every other day or before work to shower and change, since, well, you know, we've been spending so much time together." He shrugged his wide shoulders.

"What about your family, your kids? Unlike me, you have joint custody," his companion asked. "What would you tell them? 'I have a roommate that's a man and we share a bedroom'? Or would we get a place where we both have separate bedrooms and a guestroom for your kids when you have them? That's gonna be kinda pricey in Manhattan, man. Would your ex even allow that? I certainly wouldn't want you to end up in my situation." Obviously his head was reeling with all the questions and possibilities.

"Wow, logistics already, and you know, I could help you with THAT situation," giving him a pointed look but knowing that subject was off the table from their previous discussions on the matter. "So you would consider it?" his blue eyes took on a deeper warm hue and his strong, handsome jawline lifted in his direction knowingly.

"Damn, that's nice." His bedmate said looking up admiringly and taking in the total picture of the very attractive man smiling over at him, letting his eyes follow his long, trim body down the rumpled sheets of his bed.

"Let's worry about all the details later," he said, shrugging again. "Back to my original question…who is your dream woman?"

"My dream woman?" he laughed. "Oh, that's easy. Olivia Benson."

"Damn, you aim for the stars." He said, still grinning and now shaking his head.

"Damn straight." His companion replied. "And never gonna happen."

"She's your exception."

"What do you mean by that?" the older man asked, turning his head so the street light coming in through the window caught at pieces of the silver now starting to take over his formerly brown hair, all hint of any Irish red glints now faded away with time.

"If you are out and about, and I'm not with you, AND you can pick up Olivia Benson. I say, go for it!" He laughed, like that was ever going happen for either of them. "Otherwise, always check with me first."

"Okay. That's sounds workable. Communication is key in any good relationship." he replied, raising his eyebrows slightly and the line between them puckered a little with emphasis.

"And safety first" the somewhat younger man added, with a slightly more serious look in his eye as he gazed at his lover. He couldn't hide how pleased he was with the direction this conversation he had been nervous about initiating had headed.

"Always." He replied. "Wait, so who's your exception?" he asked curiously.

"Well…you took the best one." he said with a twinkle in his eye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: I called the last chapter a prologue but it was probably more of a teaser since I'm going to back up the story just slightly in time here. These first few chapters are going to establish some relationships that are already in progress before the actual romance with Olivia will come into play. I hope you'll hold on for the ride. #Responsible**

6 months earlier

March 6, 2007

"Hi," Rita said, tentatively, approaching him at the high table he had commandeered at the bar designated as their meeting place this evening. He was hunched over a glass filled with brown liquor. "I heard about what happened in court today. Are you okay?" she asked flagging down a waitress and asking her for a glass of sauvignon blanc. He smirked at her choice.

"I'm not sure. Yeah, I guess. I don't know. Just as expected, considering" he replied with a sigh, knowing he probably was not making much sense. He could not decide whether he had failed his client or not. He probably should have made more of an effort to stop her from incriminating herself in the middle of the courtroom earlier that day but she clearly wanted to take responsibility for her actions which had contributed to both the deterioration of her daughter's health and the death of her "so-called" friends.

"You know how it is," he said looking at Rita expectantly with bright blue eyes. "One day you're a monster for tearing apart a teenage girl on the stand and the next you're incompetent for only mildly protesting while your client confesses to everything in open court. I can't wait for the partners to rip me a new one for that. Right now, I can't help but think she did the right thing. If I don't have a job tomorrow, I reserve the right to reevaluate the situation." He raised his glass in her direction with a sardonic look then took a drink.

"You're probably in a position where you can branch out on your own now," Rita pointed out. "You've put in your time and followed the steps up the ladder. Maybe it's time to start thinking about doing what you want and not what's expected of you. I know that was always your intention."

"I'm getting there," he replied. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I worry about my kids having what they need. It'll come soon though. I'm starting to get tired of always being the bad guy. However, I want to be the one to make that decision rather than have someone else make it for me."

"Understandable," Rita replied taking a sip of the wine the busy waitress had finally delivered. "So, do you want to wallow with your thoughts over drinks or are you up to our planned activities for the evening?" she asked neutrally, not wanting to influence him unduly. If he were not in the mood, it would not do either of them any good to push.

"Hmmm, drinking or sex, sex or drinking. Either way works just fine for me. See any prospects?" he asked with a slow sexy smile.

"Maybe," she replied, looking around again. She had been slowly perusing the usual suspects at the bar and along some of the other tables in their vicinity. Her gaze kept getting drawn back to a lone figure at one end of the bar. He was wearing a conservative navy suit, his head turned away from her so she could not see his choice of tie or his face. He certainly looked attractive from behind, fit with salt and pepper at the back of his head and from what she could see of the sides. A darker, nondescript color adorned the top of his head. Her drinking buddy followed her gaze towards the man at the bar and he smirked again.

"Him? Good luck with that one." He said turning back to his drink, figuring that was all he was going to be doing tonight now.

"What's wrong with him? Do you know him?" Rita asked, curiously.

"Uh, yeah. I'm surprised you don't. Worked on a case that he was involved with a few months back. Afterwards, I sort of hit on him and got a rather emphatic 'NO'. He's definitely got something up his ass and I certainly didn't put it there," he said with a snort.

"Now you've got me curious," Rita replied, picked up her now empty glass, and walked towards the bar with a hip swish, looking back over her shoulder at him with a flirty glance. She set her empty wine glass down on the bar rather hard beside the gentleman in question and looked around searching for the bartender. She could see out of the corner of her eye that he was now looking at her and turned to him with a cool "hello," while brushing her hair back over her shoulder. She watched his ice-blue gaze follow the long brown strands as they settled down her back.

"Do I know you? You look familiar." She said, again curious, watching as he shifted on his bar stool towards her. His suit jacket fell back away from his waist revealing a shield clipped to his belt, a lieutenant's shield. She pointed her finger at his shoulder, lightly poking the material of his suit jacket.

"IAB. Right?" she said tilting her head to one side and curling up one side of her lip, raising an interested eyebrow in his direction. "Lieutenant…?"

"Tucker," he replied, eyeing her not so subtle flirtations, "Ed Tucker," he finally said, resignedly. He had just ducked in for a quick drink and had no plans to prolong his evening socially, especially not in this place, definitely not his usual type place. It was too hip, too crowded. It had been a convenient stop on his way home from his latest crime scene. However, now he found his eyes following the long length of this woman's beautiful brown hair flowing gracefully down her back and felt compelled to continue his perusal the rest of the way to her fashionable high-heeled shoes, then slowly back up her front. On the other hand, he thought, maybe this evening would be better with some social interaction, especially if it were coming from this lovely woman now raising her second eyebrow at him in askance. "And you are?" he asked, as expected.

"Rita," she said delighted he was playing her little game, "Rita Calhoun."

"And should I know you?" he asked, pursing his lips. "Because I think I would have remembered you." He continued, again giving her the once over perusal.

"I would certainly hope so." She said, mockingly. "No, we've never met, but I have heard a few things about you." She peered across at him with a suggestive look.

"I'll bet," he replied dryly, taking a sip of his bourbon. He finally waved at the hurried bartender as he rushed by and indicated Rita's empty glass, "The lady will have another…" he looked at her questioningly.

"Sauvignon blanc…" she indicated to the bartender and he quickly grabbed an open bottle, filled up her glass and Tucker passed a bill in his direction, indicating for him to keep the change. "So, I've never seen you here before. What brings you into this fine establishment, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Meanwhile, across the bar, a couple of women walked towards the ladies room, glanced at the attractive man nursing his drink at the high table, but his attention was not deterred from watching the couple at the bar now engaged in conversation. Huh, he thought, Rita had actually engaged the 'ice prince' in conversation. Well, if anyone could do it, it was his lovely friend.

He had to give Rita credit; she certainly made a great "wingman". He did worry that Lt. Tucker would bolt the second the realization of what she wanted from him and the identity of her other partner for the evening came to light. He felt a shiver of apprehension as he remembered his previous rejection by the man. Why that should bother him, he did not know. Tucker had been brief and to the point, not hurtful in any way, just a simple no, not interested and then walked away. Attraction was attraction and sometimes it was one-sided. He found himself wishing that it had not been one-sided in this particular case.

What was it about Tucker that so attracted him? Tucker just had this presence about him, aloof, almost unfeeling and yet he felt like that was a mask and that the man behind it was actually the exact opposite. That there was a wealth of emotion behind those cold eyes, just waiting to be unleashed, and he wanted it to unleash upon him in the most decadent way possible. Shit. This night was either going to disappoint him royally or explode like fireworks on the fourth of July.

Not wanting to contemplate that, his thoughts went back to his professional situation. Was Rita right? Was it time for him to make his move and put out his own shingle? He had been preparing for this, setting money aside here and there with the intention of one day having his own practice where he could decide which cases were worthy of his attention.

On the other hand, living in Manhattan was expensive. Raising children was expensive. His ex had remarried and was providing a good home for his children with her new husband who had a steady income but he felt that he needed to put forth the same efforts. They were his children, and they had joint custody. It was a big risk to take, to branch out on his own and not have that steady paycheck every month.

He sighed and looked at his drink before glancing back up at the couple at the bar wondering how far Rita was getting with the man who caught his eye months ago.

"So are you interested in adventure?" Rita was asking the reserved lieutenant with a suggestive smile.

"Well, now, that depends on what kind of adventure you have in mind?" Tucker responded in kind.

"Just gauging whether you're strictly a straight missionary style man or if you are open to more fun type games," she replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Name your game," Tucker suggested

"Well, obviously not solitaire, and I find chess rather boring, I was thinking about games that involve multiple players," she replied.

"Name your other players," Tucker said leaning back and taking another sip of his bourbon while eyeing her with a shaded look to his countenance. Rita simply looked back over her left shoulder and raised her wine glass in her previous companion's direction. He raised his glass back as a signal of his acquiescence.

"Ah," Tucker said taking a deep breath. He downed the remaining bourbon in his glass then turned to Rita. "Where to?"

Rita picked up her cell and made arrangements for a hotel room then asked Tucker to input his contact information into her phone. "I'll go check in and text you with the room number," she told him then crossed the bar to give the details to their other accomplice.

"Wow, I'm impressed," he said when Rita revealed that she would be texting him with the hotel room number shortly. "How did you manage that? I guess I better start watching my back a little better or you'll be poaching my clients."

"It may already be too late for that," Rita informed him sassily, grabbed her light jacket and walked quickly out of the bar, a woman clearly on a mission for her own satisfaction. He laughed and motioned for the waitress to bring him one more round and eyed Tucker still sitting at the end of the bar, surreptitiously glancing in his direction now and again. A few minutes later, Tucker paid his tab and calmly exited the bar with nary a glance in his direction. He hoped that Tucker was on his way to the hotel and not bailing on them. He took a slow sip of his drink and contemplated what the night might have in store for him if, and that was a big if, Tucker did indeed follow through on their assignation. He finished his drink then exited the bar as well, heading in the direction of the hotel. As he was entering the establishment, he heard a text come through on his phone and headed in the direction of the elevator which had just opened for a couple waiting to take it up to their floor. Tucker was just exiting the hotel bar and he held the elevator door for him to join them.

"Floor?" he questioned Tucker, not bothering to check his phone for the texted information.

"Eleven," Tucker replied. He punched the button for the eleventh floor and smiled in askance of the couple who replied with a higher number. They quietly ascended to the eleventh floor at which point, both he and Tucker exited. Tucker told the couple to enjoy their evening, a sentiment they returned readily. He followed Tucker to the hotel room and waited quietly outside with him after Tucker quickly rapped a few times on the door. Rita opened the door for the two men. She had already shed her jacket and shoes and had a glass in her hand. He took off his suit jacket and threw it towards the couch and walked across the room, surveying its contents before turning to face the other occupants.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" he asked Tucker in a skeptical manner.

"Yeah," Ed replied. Rita froze watching the two men in conversation, hoping that everything was not about to go south and ready to jump in at any time and settle any ruffled feathers.

"Really?" he asked slightly surprised but quickly trying to cover his tone realizing that perhaps that was not the best tact to take with their reticent partner.

"Yes, really." Ed gave the other man a look that wiped all expression off his face, but even then he could not help responding with a bit of attitude.

"Experimented in high school? Two girls, huh?" he said, curling his lip almost condescendingly.

"Yeah, two girls in high school a coupla times. Then when I was in the military, an army buddy and I would pick up a woman sometimes." Ed shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped the back of it across the chair in front of the desk and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Army buddy? So, a male army buddy? Bet you were an MP. You're a real stickler for following rules, aren't you?" Shit! What the fuck was wrong with him? He needed to check the attitude fast or this was not going to go as planned at all. Tucker was giving him that look again, piercing him with his ice-blue glare.

"Actually, I was a mechanic. My buddy was the MP," Ed stated matter-of-factly. Rita started to undress, wide-eyed watching the two men carefully.

"So, was he your first?" he asked Ed, placing his hands on his hips, now watching the older man who paused with his shirt half unbuttoned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ed said, looking up at him figuratively, unwilling to admit that the other man was right. He pursed his lips, then his brows and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive, or was it offensive position. "Maybe you should undress and lie down on the bed face-up, counselor." He suggested in a tone that really did not indicate suggestion but more of a command.

"You like to be in control, don't you?" he asked, defiantly. "You get off on intimidating people into doing what you want them to do."

"Maybe," Ed said with a smirk taking a step towards the taller man. "Lie down on the bed, counselor. Why don't we change that to face-down instead?"

"Why don't you make me?" he replied, still not sure what was causing him to outright challenge the man.

"Don't think that I can't," Ed replied. "You may be taller than me, and you may outweigh me, but unlike you, pretty boy, not only did I grow up in a rough 'hood but I have a black belt, and I can put you on the ground before you even knew what hit you." The bigger man's eyes widened quickly and he almost took a slight step back at Tucker's aggressive tone.

"Whoa! Boys! Take it down a notch," Rita jumped into the open space between them beside the bed. "Remember me, the other part of this threesome? Do you boys want me to leave or are we going to have some fun?"

Tucker's surprised glance suggested that he had indeed forgotten her presence in the room but he quickly made up for it by sliding his arms around the beautiful woman now clad only in a few wisps of lingerie and all that gorgeous sexy hair. He slid his mouth across her cheek lightly before coming to rest almost on hers with his lips slightly open, breathing against her mouth in light puffs that warmed her lips.

He leaned down anchoring his arms behind the small of her back then stood up straight bringing her up on her tip-toes before slowly letting her slide back down his body onto the flat of her feet. She gasped at the feel of the friction of his clothes against her nearly all-bare skin as she slid along his body. He took advantage of her gasp to slide his tongue leisurely, seductively into her mouth and rub against her own. Then he slid it ever so slowly in a warm, wet circle around hers and then withdrew pulling back his head to gaze at her while keeping her in the circle of his arms, arching her back and pulling the front of her body flush against his.

"Now how on earth, could we have forgotten that we need to put this lovely siren in the middle? That is, if that's where she wants to be? Is that where you want to be? Hmmm…the middle?" he asked with a suggestive look his blue eyes now filling with humor and warmth.

"I think I had better take the middle. Something needs to be between the two of you or I think this may turn into something besides fun sex." She said jokingly though the look in her eye belied that sentiment.

"So you always top, right?" the younger man asked him, continuing their conversation.

"Omigod! Stop it! I'm going to be in the middle, you can both top me," Rita exclaimed at him while Ed turned to glare at the man again.

"Oh, wait, your boyfriend was an MP so he probably topped you," he said, scathingly.

"We took turns actually," Ed replied.

"So you switched," he mused.

"Yeah," Ed replied.

"Huh, surprised you'd actually admit that." The other man replied.

"Why? Is there something wrong with that? Do YOU have a problem with that?" Ed challenged.

"Jesus, do I need to go home to Bob?" Rita asked, exasperatedly, starting to pull out of Ed's arms but he tightened his hold.

"Bob?" Ed asked Rita, incredulously. "Who the hell's Bob?"

"The big hunk of plastic that I keep in my drawer that doesn't argue with another man while getting me off," she replied, again pulling back against his hold on her.

"No, you don't need to go home to Bob." The younger man said, laughing. "Ed and I were just flirting, weren't we?"

"THAT was flirting?" Rita asked, doubtfully.

"Sure. Our dynamic's just a little different than yours." He said looking pointedly at Ed.

"That's one way to put it," Rita replied facetiously, drawing him up against her back and pulling his arms around her to overlap in her middle. The backs of his hands brushed Ed's belt buckle and he glanced up at the man, boldly. Ed returned his glance, heated, unflinching. Maybe the man was not indifferent to him after all.

Rita began to finish unbuttoning Ed's dress shirt, while the towering gentleman behind her pressed his growing arousal against the curve of her buttocks. Ed slid his hands from the small of her back, firmly pressing along the soft tissue on either side of her spine until he reached her shoulders, then pressed them back against the other man, turning his fingers to start unbuttoning his shirt as well, the meaty flesh of the bottom of his palm glancing against Rita's back as he followed the line of buttons down the other man's body revealing no undershirt below his light blue dress shirt and a sparse sprinkling of brown hair across his chest and around his nipples. Ed quickly pulled the shirt free of the man's dress pants and started to slide it around his broad shoulders. The other man let go of Rita's waist letting the shirt fall to the floor behind him while Ed slid his palms from the top of his chest following the small trail of brown hair down to his navel before sifting through it as it thickened towards the clip of his slacks, Ed's eyes following his hands in appreciation of the other man's physique.

In the meantime, Rita had finished unbuttoning Ed's white dress shirt and pulled it along with the white undershirt beneath it free of his slacks, then she pulled his wrists around to unfasten the tighter cuff buttons and push one shirt off his shoulders and pulled the other over his head, mussing the darker hair on top before following with her hands to run them over the top of his head and pull him down to her with a smile and a kiss. "Wow," she breathed running her hands down his neck, over his shoulders then grasping his arms in a firm grip. "Those are quite the guns that you're packing there, Lieutenant." The taller man behind her looked down to see her admiring Ed's biceps and brought his own hands back up to test the feel of Ed's muscles as well.

"Yeah," he laughed, "with those in your arsenal, you probably could put me down fairly quickly." He looked at Ed and gave him a broad smile full of perfectly straight white teeth. Ed gasped in response. The man's smile was truly a sight to behold and lit up his prominent blue eyes with a warm kindness the likes of which Ed had never felt gaze upon him. He swallowed and pursed his mouth and eyebrows in an effort to mask his innate response.

Rita slid her hands up Ed's biceps then cupped the other man's hands over them. Then she stepped out from between them with firm direction in her eyes. "Lose the pants, gentleman. Let's see what we have to work with." She gave them a smile and stepped back to enjoy the show. Ed moved over to stand next to the other man giving a quick laugh that verged between a chuckle and a snort then reached for his belt glancing sideways at his taller counterpart to see if he was removing the rest of his clothes as well. The other man glanced back at him with a smirk then followed suit reaching for the fastening of his slacks.

Both men continued to disrobe while Rita watched, moving to retrieve her glass of wine from the nightstand beside the bed and contemplating the delicious scene of two very different but attractive men in front of her. One was tall, dark and lanky with sparse brown hair across the middle of his chest, which disappeared almost up to his navel before making reappearance in a very prevalent happy trail she followed to his proud erection. The man was beautifully proportionate which she had previous knowledge of but was always inclined to admire since in her experience that was not always the case. The other gentlemen, while normally considered tall, was dwarfed by the dark, towering man beside him, had very little body hair across his chest but it thickened slightly below his navel to trail across the middle of abdomen to show off his own proportionate but wider erection displayed for her with equal smugness.

"Hmm," she contemplated, taking a sip of her wine. "Both of you are impressive. I can't decide which I like better, length or girth," she smiled at them both respectively. "I guess it depends on what you can do with them. Which do I want where and how I guess is the question. Better yet, why don't I try both and then decide." She laughed, downed the rest of her wine and moved to kneel on the bed with her back to the frame. The two men glanced at one another then each followed her onto the bed and quietly worked in tandem.

Ed moved to her back to remove her bra and the other man moved to her front, pushing her gently back on the bed to remove her panties, drawing them slowly down her legs, dragging the sheer lace fabric along the sensitive skin of her thighs, knees and calves before tossing them to the side. He held her feet in his large hands and leaned down to place a kiss on the tops before separating his hands, one foot in each and then pulling them to the side of his hips and placing them flat on the bed, spreading her out before him, adjusting his position so that he knelt between her knees.

Meanwhile, from behind, Ed eased her back against his chest and slowly slid his hands around her chest to cup her breasts from behind. He gently massaged the round handfuls then rubbed his thumbs over the hardened peaks. Rita moaned and leaned back further against him running her hands over his arms down to curl her fingers around his wrists then stretched further against him arching her back, and moving her hands up the curve of his biceps then over his shoulders to curl behind his neck. She turned her head and met his lips in a passionate kiss, rubbing her tongue insistently against his.

Not to be ignored, the other man ran his hands up the inside of her knees, tantalizingly running them all the way up to just shy of the apex of her thighs before moving them back down, under her knees and running them along the outside of her thighs, hooking her knees into the crook of his arms and leaning his entire upper body forward until his lips landing near her navel and provocatively ran his lips, followed by his tongue along the planes of her abdomen before moving them lower to the trail of her Brazilian, then following down the right side of her labia, then moving over to the left to return back to her abdomen, nuzzling along the entire path. She groaned, broke her kiss with Ed and moved her hands from the back of Ed's neck to bury them in the luxurious thick brown hair of the man whose lips traversed her abdomen and further down completing the circle again. He continued to tease her by circling the place where she longed him to touch most.

"Where do you want his lips, Rita?" Ed asked in his husky smoker's voice. Leaving his left hand teasing her nipple he ran his right hand past the other man's head to tease at the trail of hair leading to her clit. He slid his forefinger and middle finger apart on either side and spread her outer lips so that her clit was exposed to the pre-chilled air of the room. "Do you want him to put his tongue here?" he continued.

"Yes," she demanded "Now!"

"Not yet," the other man replied. Making the circle again, not even pausing as his lips and tongue grazed past Ed's arm, then wrist, and hand as he followed his path. He stopped at the bottom of the circle and hovered over her center then blew out a breath lightly over her clit still held exposed by Ed's fingers. Then he removed his right arm from Rita's knee and moved it up using his fingers to pull back the hood and blow on her clit again.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed. "Touch me, lick me, now." She insisted. Ed gave a husky laugh and let go of her outer lips, ran his fingers through the other man's gorgeous brown hair then moved it back to Rita's right breast and tweaked her hardened nipple. Ed sat back against the pillows, pulling his legs out from under him and settled Rita between his legs, stretching them out on either side of her, trapping his arousal against the small of her back. He pressed against her and issued a groan of his own.

Meanwhile, the man lying between her legs finally laid the flat of his tongue against her clit and firmly rubbed it back and forth. "Yes!" she exclaimed. He drew away too soon and as she started to protest, he dipped his right forefinger into her wet channel and pressed all the way in before pulling back out and adding a second finger, curling both up to press against the rough flesh along the top of her passage. "There," she gasped, "Right there! Don't stop!" He continued to finger her channel to her enjoyment while he moved his lips further up to her abdomen coming to rest near her breasts, which Ed held up to display for him. He sucked her left nipple into his mouth and began to lave it with his tongue. He moved over to her right breast and repeated the action, looking up over Rita's shoulder into Ed's eyes, which were now burning with longing. He moved further up Rita's body taking her mouth in a lust filled kiss, still moving his fingers along her wet pussy, his weight resting on his left arm beside Ed's leg. She thrusts her hips forward meeting his fingers' movement and as she pulled back she bumped against Ed's arousal behind her and he groaned.

Ed watched as the other man withdrew his tongue from Rita's mouth and looked at him ready to repeat the action. Ed moved towards him and initiated the kiss but the other man quickly took over, filling Ed's mouth with his insistent tongue, thrusting and rubbing it against Ed's adamantly. Meanwhile Rita worked her hands between their bodies to curl around the erection now throbbing persistently against her belly. She gave a few sharp tugs and he groaned in Ed's mouth. Ed released Rita's right breast and moved his own hand down to run over Rita's and as Rita firmly glided her hand to the tip of the other man's cock, Ed slid his down and grasped the base, helping her pump him. He broke the kiss and murmured a quick "fuck" under his breath as Ed's hand moved further down below the base to cup and squeeze his balls.

"I want to feel that sweet mouth on me," he told Rita, gently pulling her out of Ed's arms and sitting back on his knees. Rita leaned forward to comply with his request while Ed started to move from the bed.

"I'll just grab a condom," Ed said searching his pants for his wallet.

"Hey, Ed, will you…" he gasped as Rita's mouth suddenly hit a sensitive spot and then gritted his teeth to finish his thought, "grab mine while you're at it." He gathered Rita's hair in one hand playing with its long silkiness while he watched her ministrations. She pulled her mouth away from him for a second to tell Ed there was a strip of condoms in her purse. Ed moved across the room and went into her purse finding and pulling the strip out. "Wow," the other man said, "You're a brave man going into a woman's purse."

"I used to search through my wife's purse all the time looking for shit for her," Ed shrugged like it was not big deal.

"You were married?" the other man said, incredulously before groaning when Rita clamped a hand tightly around his sac and probed her tongue into that sensitive notch behind the head. "Never mind. Conversation. For. Later."

Ed climbed back on the bed, dropping the strip of condoms before taking the single from his hand and applying it. He pulled Rita's hips up from behind and ran a hand down her buttocks. "Ready for me?" he asked, sliding it underneath her and between her legs. She hummed around the other man's penis and he laughed feeling the wetness between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance from behind, slowly thrusting forward. He placed his left hand at her hip to hold her steady then leaned over her back and slid his right hand over her right hip, down her belly and found her clit to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned around the other man again.

"That's hot," the two men practically said together then laughed, looking at each other knowingly. The other man gently supported her head with one hand, while moving the other below her body to cup her breast and worry a nipple. She moaned again. "A little bit longer, then let's switch places," he suggested. "I can't keep this up much longer or this will all be over on my part."

"You got it," Ed replied, enjoying watching the couple in front of him while taking slow deep thrusts for himself. A few moments later, the man in front of him pulled Rita up off of him and away from Tucker, drawing her up against his body and giving her a long leisurely kiss.

"That was great, sweetheart," he said pulling back and gazing into her warm eyes. "Why don't you lie back now?" he said easing her back on the bed and tearing a condom off the strip beside them on the bed and sheathing himself. Ed stripped his condom off and stepped to the side to throw it in the trash can by the desk.

"Let me have a taste first before you take her," Ed said crawling back up on the bed between her legs and nudging the other man to the side.

"Go ahead," the other man said indulgently, sitting to the side to watch while deliciously rubbing his palms over Rita's torso. Rita smiled at him then shivered a bit as she watched Ed crawl up the bed towards her then settling his shoulders between her legs before running his tongue up the inside of her thigh, quickly delving into her passage then slowly circling her clit firmly.

"More," she commanded relaxing back into the pillows on the bed.

"Greedy," Ed laughed huskily, his voice reverberating around her and she moaned at the feeling against her pussy. He circled once more before moving lower and fucking her slowly with his tongue. He licked his way back up to her clit then firmed his tongue and wicked it back and forth until she was shuddering.

"That's enough," the other man said, pulling Ed up and motioning him to straddle Rita and move further up her torso.

"What?" Rita protested. "You guys are a bunch of teases."

Ed smiled and inched on his knees further up Rita's torso and her eyes widened as she took in his girth coming towards her face. She lifted her head to meet him while the other man took his place between her legs, lifting her hips up to settle her on top of his thighs where he knelt on the bed. "Trust me," he said as he entered her still quivering opening and she locked her legs around his back while she took Ed in her mouth, "It will be so much better when you finally come." Then he began to thrust slowly into her, following with circular rotations of his hips then he ran his right hand from her hip down to her thigh holding her wide for his thrusts. He quickly became more aggressive, increasing the speed of his thrusts. He moved his right hand back to her hip and leaned over placing his left arm flat against Ed's back, squeezing his left shoulder with his hand, drawing Ed into his rhythm.

"Fuck," Ed groaned, pulling back from Rita's mouth and inching back closer to the man behind him. He gripped the base of his cock and Rita moved her hands from his hips to help him, but became distracted when the man behind him moved his hand from her hip to firmly press his thumb to her clit and she finally went off. Her head lolled back against the pillows and her eyes rolled back into her head as she cried out finally in her release. He followed soon after unable to restrain himself as her sheath contracted all around him. He shuddered collapsing momentarily against Ed's back. He recovered quickly and slid a hand around Ed to help him finish across Rita's breasts. Ed groaned as he pulled away and left Ed and Rita to dispose of his condom.

Ed started to move his weight off of Rita and told her he would get her a towel to clean up with but she stopped him. "I think I'll jump in the shower actually. That would probably be easier. I think I have a hair clip in my purse so I can put it up." She jumped off the bed and started digging through her purse then ducked into the bathroom to start the shower.

"Is there room for three in there?" Ed called.

"Yes, just" she replied, "but do NOT get my hair wet." The two men followed her into the waiting shower.

"Oh," the taller man said kneeling at her feet, "I'm sure we can find plenty of things to do in here that don't require your hair getting wet. We don't mind ours getting wet, do we, Ed?"

"Nope," Ed replied, kneeling in the shower beside the other man and grasping Rita by the hip. "Not at all".

"I love it when men know how to use their imagination," Rita replied with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Dialogue from the show is displayed in italics.

Author's note: There is a very kind Irish woman that works in my office. I enjoy chatting with her in the breakroom over tea and coffee. She recently returned to Ireland with her young children to renew her visa, and when she got back, she cheered for being let back into the country (while not a laughing matter for some, what are we to do with all this ridiculousness?) Anyways, she has a very traditional Irish name and I am in love with it so I have decided to give Ed's family Irish names starting with Ed's ex. For those familiar with the pronunciation of Irish names, forgive me, but until I met her I had no idea, and I will be putting a phonetic pronunciation of any new Irish names (which I have taken off the internet so 'grain of salt' and all that) at the beginning of the chapters for those that would like to know the pronunciation of the name while reading.

Siobhan (shi + VAWN or shuh + VAWN)

…

Friday, March 7, 2008

"What about her?" he suggested, waving his gin and tonic at the woman who had just entered the bar.

"Hell no!" Ed dismissed her immediately.

"Jesus! That was decisive," he replied, wide-eyed. "What's wrong with her? For future reference," he clarified.

"Sorry," Ed sighed, "she looks like my ex."

"Really?" he enquired, looking back over at the redhead with interest. "You've never shown a bias against redheads before tonight. There was that gorgeous real estate agent that we picked up in Chelsea around Thanksgiving. You didn't seem to mind her at all," he smirked.

"Her hair was a smooth deep auburn. That's totally different," Ed defended then smiled in remembrance. "Yeah, that was a great night."

"So, again, for future reference, it's the shade or the shade and style or what?" the other man asked.

Ed sighed resignedly always wanting to ignore the issue of his ex, then waived his bourbon in the general direction of the last place he'd seen the woman in question, "Just not 'Shannon, _Far and Away_ crazy red'."

"Wow," he looked at Ed disbelievingly, "You? I cannot picture you with a wild woman like you're describing. Really?"

"What can I say?" Ed replied, taking a sip of his bourbon and making a disgusted face at his younger self. "I was young and dumb."

"Alrighty then. No wild and crazy redheads. I can work with that." He smiled at Ed indulgently. He knew that Ed's ex had done a real number on him, was still doing it, though he did not know the whole story. Ed was not much for sharing and he tended to become rather tight-lipped when the subject was brought up. "So, what are you in the mood for tonight or would you just rather go home at this point?"

"How about the lady with the raven black hair over by the back," Ed shrugged his shoulder in the general direction and glanced her way.

"Alright, buddy, I say it's your turn for the approach, and I actually believe she'll be more receptive to you. She just looks like the 'I want a conservative looking man with a rough edge that knows how to let his hair down' type," he said gesturing her way.

"Where do you come up with this shit?" Ed laughed at his partner's nonsensical 'type' descriptions. The man certainly knew how to make Ed laugh, which was a good thing. Ed really needed laughter in his life. God knows he had not had much reason to laugh since the events preceding his divorce six years ago.

…

FALL 1988

Siobhan. She had been larger than life when he met her. What had seemed like an inconsequential day suddenly turned extraordinary. It was her laugh that first drew his attention. He was walking into class and suddenly a boisterous voice gripped him to the very center of his being. He knew he was not the only one. That voice must have attracted every other red-blooded male in the room, flamboyant and lovely, a siren's song that beckoned everyone closer. His eyes immediately scanned the room seeking the source of that melodious voice. When he found it, he paused in his path, the vision enthralling him. He suddenly knew without a doubt that the feeling coming over him was the one novels described as 'love at first sight'.

She had wild red hair, curly to the point of frizz in parts. The kind of hair that would normally overshadow every other feature of any other woman, but not her. Huge mischievous green eyes peered at him through a few curls, clearly observing his interest. She was quite a few years younger than him, closer in age to the other students who had filled the classroom. His ears instantly tuned into the words that accompanied her laughter and realized that she and the other students in her group were extolling the dullness of the required history class. She was definitely not a history buff, which was too bad since he had spent a lot of his free time while in the military devouring any kind of history books that his father could afford to send him or that he could find on base. However, he knew as her eyes caught his admiring gaze again that there would be common ground between them. It did not have to be history. Actually, please, he thought, never history.

Of course, that was before. Before she heard the words he had said over Sean's grave. Before she had found out about him, about his past. A past he did not advertise but did not feel necessary to hide from most of his family and close friends. Those he knew did not judge but loved him unconditionally. He had expected that kind of love from the woman he had chosen to be his partner in life, his soul mate, the woman who had bestowed a gift of a claddagh on his hand on the day that they married. Unfortunately, that had not been the case. In the end, she had not given him unconditional love, unfailing loyalty or lifelong friendship, and the claddagh, the symbol of all of those things, had meant nothing to her while it had meant everything to him.

…

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Ed woke up alone the next morning in a tangle of covers. He turned over to look at the clock and was surprised by the time. He didn't usually sleep until eight o'clock. The apartment sounded quiet for a Saturday morning. He rolled out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweat pants from a nearby chair draped with casual attire. He walked down the hall in bare feet running his hands over his face and clearing sleepers from his eyes. As he approached the combination playroom/living/kitchen area of the apartment, he heard the quiet noises of someone in the kitchen.

"Good morning," the man moving industriously around the small but airy kitchen greeted him. "I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed since you were actually sleeping in this morning, but you've ruined my plans." He looked up at Ed, still wearing black framed glasses and sporting a slightly sheepish, if not disappointed, smile on his face covered in a dark shadow of stubble. He looked so attractive bussing around the kitchen with a skillet in one hand and utensils in the other as he tried to make a grab for a few more ingredients from the countertop without dropping everything.

"Morning," Ed said, unable to hide the upturn of his lips as he dropped a kiss on the other man's cheek then looked at the contents of the skillet with interest. Ed moved to pour himself a cup of coffee then went back around the counter to pull out a stool at the breakfast bar and sat down. "What are ya makin'? Smells good."

"It's a sausage and egg scramble. I thought we could turn it into breakfast tacos if you like," he suggested, adding some peppers and onions into the mixture already tossed in the skillet. He headed for the frosted glass cabinet doors near the floor to ceiling window that housed their pantry items. He pulled out some spices and tortillas to heat up, then opened the refrigerator to gather various jars and bottles including salsa and a couple of avocados, once again balancing everything precariously. After dumping it on the counter in front of Ed, he jumped back to his skillet to give it a stir. Ed just watched him with an amused look on his face and continued to sip his coffee.

"Does this mean we're not doing brunch out tomorrow?" Ed asked, thinking all of this was probably leading up to the other man cancelling their usual relaxed Sunday brunch out, followed by catching a game and beer at a sports bar, then Sandy dropping off the other man's kids for the week.

"Umm," he said started tentatively, "I'm probably going to have to work most of the day tomorrow. I have a big case going to trial on Monday. I thought we could do breakfast this morning then spend some time together since last night didn't exactly go the way we planned."

"Dude," Ed shrugged, "It's not always gonna work out the way we think it will. Some women are into it, some aren't, and some women just think that they're into it. 'Til they get in the middle of it and get overwhelmed by the moment and have ta get out. It happens. You never know and you never will unless you stick with the regular players. Hell, even then, anyone can freak out at anytime and that's okay. I thought we saved the evening just fine by ourselves."

"Yeah," he stopped stirring to turn around and give Ed a cheeky grin. "We certainly did."

"So what did you have in mind?" Ed asked, getting up and coming back around the white granite topped bar.

"I thought maybe we could go check out that 9/11 exhibit at the Historical Society if it's still on display." He took Ed's right arm and fingered the memorial bracelet Ed wore around his wrist. "I know that you went to see it with your family right after it opened, but I would like to see it, and I would like to do it with you if you're up for it again."

"I would have liked that," Ed replied swallowing a bit of emotion back and looking down at where the other man was rubbing his metal bracelet, "but I think the exhibit's already closed. Let's head over to Central Park and fly a kite or throw around a Frisbee. Then maybe we can hit up some stores and look for some floating shelves for your office nook in the bedroom."

"Hey, that's a great idea. Can we stop at Delphinium?" the other man said enthusiastically, any excuse to find more cool stuff for the new place.

"Sure. Maybe I can find something for Ma's birthday there," Ed said.

"She'll say that it's too fancy," he replied, laughing.

"How do you know?" Ed asked as the other man just gave him a knowing look. "Yeah, you're right but she deserves it." Ed watched as the other man grabbed some paper towels from the under cabinet dispenser and started wetting them.

"I'm so glad that I installed this thing. I love having those so conveniently nearby while I'm cooking," he remarked.

"So, you're enjoying your new kitchen?" Ed asked pointedly with a smirk, finishing his coffee and going for another cup, then headed for the entryway to pull a pack of smokes out of the pocket of his jacket hanging on a hook.

"I'm enjoying OUR new kitchen," the other man emphasized.

"Uh huh," Ed replied, fishing his lighter out of the pocket and heading towards the door of the small balcony hanging off the open living area. He enjoyed the early morning view over Hell's Kitchen afforded him by the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the entire living area. "You keep right on saying that."

"Ed, you contributed to the down payment, you contribute to the household expenses and you make a payment on the mortgage as well," he argued. "I consider this place just as much yours as it is mine."

"Uh huh," Ed said, shaking his head and opening the balcony door. "We both know that anything I have or ever will contribute to this place won't come anywhere close to the amount of money you put down on it. That 'rent' payment I make you, and yes, I will call it 'rent'," Ed continued when the other man shook his head back at him, "probably doesn't even hit twenty percent of the mortgage payment. Consider yourself forewarned for when they make it legal for us to marry and I take you for half of everything when you kick my sorry ass out. Too bad I can't get your ex to represent me. Feel free to piss her off when the time comes."

"You gonna marry me when it's legal?" the other man asked with a grin.

"That's what you took away from that?" Ed asked, facetiously then sighed. "Do you regret the choices that you made to get this place?"

"You mean do I regret not walking away from the firm and going out on my own? Do I feel like a sell-out for agreeing to their terms and taking their money on my own conditions?" he asked seriously. "No, not at all. I got what I wanted out of it. I am now an even more powerful partner with the ability to contribute a voice to major decisions about the direction of the firm and, within reason, take on clients that I want, more pro bono included, as long as I pull my own weight and bring in the expected money for my 'white collar' criminal clients. All I have to do is toe their little political line and defend the big moneybags when they do stupid shit, which takes some legal tap-dancing most of the time. While that makes other people call me a scum-sucking lawyer, I find legal maneuvers challenging and rewarding. I don't need to get into the debate with you right now about how everyone, no matter how appalling, deserves an adequate defense by law. Not to mention," he said pulling the skillet off the stove with a final stir and placing the tortillas between the wet paper towels before popping them in the microwave, "they gave me phenomenal compensation for signing my new partnership agreement, which along with the proceeds from my last place and yours enabled us, yes, I said us, to be able to afford this place. It's a great investment and will likely return much more than we put into it. I do not regret a thing."

"Did you just call yourself 'adequate'?" Ed asked, smirking.

"That's what you took away from that?" the other man asked, repeating Ed's words back to him. Ed laughed, murmured something about lawyers, and stepped out on the balcony to enjoy another cup of coffee and a smoke before breakfast with the best friend he was beginning to think that he had ever had.

…

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Ed woke up on Tuesday morning to a light brush and tingle against his lips and the slight scent of aftershave permeating about him. He blinked his eyes against the brightness of the dimly lit bedroom to find his lover fully dressed and sitting on the bed near his hip, his torso hovering above him, weight held by an arm he had planted by Ed's other hip near the middle of the king size bed.

"Good morning," he murmured, "is it already that late?"

"Long trial yesterday and I have to be in judge's chambers by eight. I also need to stop by the office beforehand to pick up some documents my paralegal drafted to file," he said in a low voice. "My mother will be by in a bit to take the boys to school. I'll nudge them as I leave. Can you make sure they get up and get breakfast so they're ready to go when she gets here?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Ed glanced at the clock just as his alarm started to go off and the other man reached to hit his snooze button for him since he had him caged in.

"If I didn't say so before, thanks for spending the day with me Saturday. I always enjoy spending my weekends with you even if I let you talk me into watching _In the Valley of Elah_ on pay per view instead of _Michael Clayton_ ," he said looking deeply into Ed's sleepy eyes then he leaned closer, his mouth hovering over Ed's lips, "and thanks for last night as well," he continued with a suggestive smile then brushed his lips a little more firmly this time.

"My pleasure," Ed replied with a laugh then grabbed the other man by the back of the neck and pulled him in more firmly for a deeper kiss, "and we can watch _Michael Clayton_ next weekend, okay?" he said coming up for air.

"Don't muss my suit," the other man complained good-naturedly, "Judge Petrovsky likes this one. She almost always rules in my favor when I wear it," His eyes twinkled with his wide smile.

"Sure she does," Ed laughed. "I imagine that's luck or coincidence but I wouldn't blame her. Get on with ya then. Wouldn't want ta make you look like your heathen lover just had his way with ya before the good judge can get a hold of ya." Ed flopped back in the bed and watched as the other man threw him one more smiling glance as he exited the room. A few moments later Ed heard him banging on a door closer to the living area shouting for his boys to rise and shine. He started to roll over then his alarm went off again. He mumbled, hit the off button and sat up running his hands over his face and through his hair. He thought back about his pleasant weekend and could not help but feel almost optimistic for the rest of the week ahead. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He had already made it through Monday unscathed.

"Um, Ed," his lover said tentatively, coming back through the bedroom door not ten minutes later.

"I thought you left already. Something wrong?" Ed asked surprised, taking in the rueful look on the man's face. He was holding a copy of some newspaper in his hand. Ed's phone started ringing and he reached to grab it from the nightstand, "Hold on, I gotta take this," he said holding up a finger then answering with a quick "Tucker," listening for a few seconds then barked "What?" Still listening to the other person on the line, he looked up at his companion who held up the _New York Ledger_ headline for Ed. Plastered across the front page was a picture of NFL star Lincoln Haver accompanied by the headline "Lincoln Haver suspect in: HOMO-cide" and something in the sub-headline about him being a "suspect in lover's gay slay!" Ed rolled his eyes and said "Alright," into his cell before hanging up and running his hands over his face in frustration. "Fuck!" he said in a low voice. "Let me see it."

"You okay?" he asked, tentatively handing the paper over.

"No," Ed said. "Gay rights groups are already organizing a protest in front of 1PP for this morning. It's an SVU case. I'm to get my ass in pronto and start figuring out who started this clusterfuck." Ed sighed and threw the paper on the bed and rubbed his hand over his forehead. "Hadn't even got out of bed yet and I already hate this day."

"Back to reality, huh?" his lover said sympathetically

"Yeah," Ed sighed, reluctantly throwing the covers back.

"I gotta go." The other man turned towards the door but looked hesitatingly back at Ed clearly wanting to stay and comfort him.

"Go, go," Ed encouraged, "I got the boys 'til your mom gets here. Then I'll tackle this mess," he said, sweeping his hand over the paper now strewn across the bed amongst the tangled covers. "Besides, wouldn't want you to keep Judge Petrovsky waiting, now would we?"

…

Ed started heating a skillet on the cooktop and padded over the white oak floors in his bare feet to grab plates, cups and silverware out of the white cabinets. He set them up on the white granite bar for the boys. Thomas wandered in from the hall, dressed but bleary eyed, and climbed up onto one of the bar stools. Ed grabbed a jug of milk from the refrigerator and filled Thomas's cup then the cup he had placed beside the other plate. "Good morning, bud," Ed said watching him pick up the cup and take a sip. "Is your brother coming or do I need to go check on him?"

"Morning," the boy replied, taking another sip of his milk, "I think Jack's right behind me." Sure enough, as soon as he said it, the other boy came zooming into the kitchen. He popped up on the other bar stool and went straight for his cup of milk.

"Good morning!" Jack exclaimed with a sly grin.

"Morning," Ed replied. "You boys okay with eggs and toast this morning? You want them sunny side up or scrambled?"

"Scrambled!" Jack said excitedly.

"That's fine," Thomas mumbled.

"Can I have orange juice?" Jack asked.

"Sure, bud," said Ed, grabbing the orange juice along with the eggs. He pulled a mixing bowl down from the cabinet then pulled the toaster out and proceeded to prepare the boys' breakfast. A few moments later, he heard a slight knock then a key in the lock of the front door. A sharp dressed woman whom he had now guessed to be a little over a decade his senior, entered the apartment and rolled her eyes at the mess in the living and play room areas of the condo before turning to greet her grandchildren then Ed.

"Good morning, Edward," she said, bustling around the countertop and taking a survey of Ed's progress with his and the boys' breakfast, then starting to stow things away as he finished with them.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hayes," Ed replied, kissing the older woman on the cheek.

"Such a sweet boy. Now, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Trudy?" she laughed at Ed.

"Yes, ma'am," Ed replied sheepishly.

"Go on with ya," she said, shooing him out of the kitchen. "I'll finish this up and dish up the servings for everyone. I assume you were making enough for yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ed replied starting to head down the hall for a shower before dressing for his day.

"I'll keep it warm in the oven for you while you get ready," she replied, "maybe pick up a bit," she added, eyeing the common area again.

"Trudy," Ed turned around, and told her firmly, "You are not to pick up after us. You know your son pays someone to clean this apartment every week, and he wants her to feel like she earns her money so he trashes it as much as I can stand on the weekend then he yells at me for trying to tidy up on Monday. Says it deprives someone else of a job."

Trudy sighed and looked at the chip crumbs on the couch and remnants of dip on the glass coffee table leftover from their Sunday free for all. "What did you boys do on Sunday night?" she directed her gaze at her grandsons, effectively letting Ed off the hook.

"Hockey!" Jack exclaimed.

"We watched a hockey game," Thomas replied. "The Rangers won."

"Then we watched Rat-too," Jack added. Trudy gave Jack a questioning look then turned to Thomas.

Thomas did not even try to pronounce the name of the movie. He just looked at his grandmother and said, "Yeah, we watch a movie about a rat that cooked a stew."

"Ah," she replied, " _Ratatouille_."

"Yeah," Thomas agreed, "That's the one."

"Was it any good?" she asked.

"It was okay, I guess" Thomas said. The boy clearly did not get enthusiastic about anything this early in the morning.

"Well, maybe I'll make ratatouille the next time you boys come over to my house," she decided.

"Rat-tat-too!" Jack exclaimed again. Thomas just rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast.

…

Olivia took a deep breath and steeled herself to enter the interrogation room, which most certainly held none other than Lieutenant Tucker. There was no way that son of a bitch would pass up the chance to hand her shit. It's not like she did not feel bad enough already after her slip in front Natasha. It was an innocent miscommunication but she knew he would twist it all around and make her the scapegoat if he could. Keep your answers short and brief, she coached herself, stay cool and don't let him see you sweat. You did nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing. She opened the door and took in the camera setup on the table along with, as expected, Tucker.

"Well, well, it's about time," he complained the second she entered the room.

"I'm in the middle of a homicide investigation, Tucker," she replied already rolling her eyes and taking a seat where he indicated. "It's kinda keeping me busy."

"We're all busy, detective," Tucker sneered, "and even more so this morning since 'someone'," he looked at her pointedly, "doesn't know how to keep their mouth shut about others personal business. So let's get on with this, shall we? So we can all continue on with our busy day." He set the camera to record then began to pace around the interrogation room moving up behind her, his lieutenant's shield prominently displayed on the lapel of his dark grey suit. He placed a sheet of paper in front of Olivia and began to question her.

" _We dumped your phones, Detective. Do you recognize this number?_ " Tucker asked.

" _Yes._ " Olivia simply replied.

" _In the past five days, you've called it twelve times. Whose number is it?_ " Tucker asked, still pacing around behind her, obviously a tactic to unnerve her.

" _Kurt Moss_ ," Olivia replied, again keeping her answers short and sweet. No need to give over unnecessary information, knowing that if she elaborated, Tucker would use it against her. Besides, it certainly was not his business.

" _And what does Mr. Moss do for a living?_ " Tucker quickly fired back.

" _He works for the_ Ledger _, but you knew that already, didn't you?_ " Olivia turning the question back around on him, unable to continue to check her attitude. This was getting ridiculous.

" _At what time did you call Mr. Moss last night?_ " Tucker continued to question, moving around the room to take a stance across the room from Olivia, giving her a side eye.

" _10:14 PM_ " Olivia replied promptly, making reference to the papers he had placed directly in front of her. Jesus, couldn't the guy read his own shit? This was beyond preposterous at this point. Asshole.

" _And what did you do earlier in the day_?" Tucker asked.

" _My partner and I interviewed Lincoln Haver and several other witnesses in our homicide investigation,_ " she replied, succinctly.

" _And what did Mr. Haver reveal to you during his interview?_ " Tucker asked, moving to stand and face her in front of the table.

" _That he and Jeremy Haines were lovers,_ " Olivia answered.

" _Did you call Mr. Moss that night and tell him Lincoln Haver is a homosexual?_ " Tucker finally asked outright.

" _Absolutely not,_ " Olivia denied his accusation emphatically.

" _Then can you explain why you called a newspaper editor that late?_ " Tucker asked.

" _I can assure you that it had nothing to do with Lincoln Haver_ ," she replied, determined not to give Tucker, of all people, any kind of information about her personal life without a fight.

" _I find that hard to believe, Detective_ ," Tucker eyed her doubtfully taking a seat across from her. " _I think you tipped off your friend, Moss, and gave him the story,_ " Tucker insinuated.

" _You're wrong_ ," Olivia categorically denied his latest accusation then added insistently, " _I would never jeopardize a case by leaking it to the media._ "

" _Your calling Moss, and his gossip columnist printing this story is just a happy coincidence,_ " Tucker skeptically deduced, picking up a copy of the newspaper and displaying the headline for her.

" _So the gossip guy is a...is a fan of Sportsman Larry, he hears the news and he writes a story,_ " Olivia suggested as an explanation for this development in the timeline.

" _Paper went to press before Larry's broadcast_ ," Tucker pointed out, poking a hole in her theory before demanding, " _Now, explain why you called Mr. Moss last night._ "

Olivia paused then sighed, realizing that she no longer had the luxury of keeping the personal nature of the relationship out of it. " _We've been dating,_ " she reluctantly told him.

" _Who knows about it?_ " Tucker asked pithily.

" _No one_ ," Olivia admitted.

" _So you're creating this fictional booty call to save your own ass_ ," Tucker suggested acerbically.

" _He's my boyfriend_ ," Olivia defended incredulously, the nerve of this guy.

" _And you're his source_ ," Tucker concluded with finality. "Detective, you're being suspended pending further investigation into this matter. As a representative of the NYPD, you should know better than to have questionable interactions with the press, especially when they end up personally hurting innocent civilians."

"I did no such thing, and you're supposed 'innocent civilian' murdered his lover," Olivia pointed out exasperated with the entire situation.

"Fine, 'alleged suspect'," Tucker corrected, "Innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Hand over your gun and shield, Detective."

"Unbelievable," Olivia said, jumping up out of the chair, sliding her accoutrements across the table towards Tucker and slamming out of the interrogation room without another word, returning to the bullpen and grabbing her jacket and keys from her desk.

" _What happened?"_ Elliot asked watching her abrupt movements uncertainly.

" _Tucker took my gun and shield,"_ Olivia told Elliot and Cragen who looked on with concern.

" _What the hell for?"_ Cragen exclaimed.

" _Ask him,"_ Olivia said, clearly done with the whole scenario and exiting without another word to either of them.

" _Suspended?"_ Cragen asked Tucker incredulously as he entered the bullpen.

" _With pay pending investigation until further notice_ ," Tucker informed them blithely, quickly passing by Olivia's dumbfounded colleagues on his way out the door.

Elliot spared a glance at Cragen before firing back at Tucker, _"You're a son of a bitch."_

Tucker immediately stilled his stance to turn around to address the detective. _"Your partner has been sleeping with an editor at_ The Ledger _for months,"_ he informed him, brandishing up a copy of _The Ledger_ as supposed evidence.

" _Get outta here,"_ Elliot replied disbelievingly.

" _Well, you obviously don't know Detective Benson as well as you think,"_ Tucker shot back.

" _I know she'd never torpedo a case,"_ Elliot told Tucker confidently.

" _Forgive me if I questioned your judgment,"_ Tucker replied sarcastically, again brandishing his copy of the newspaper about before exiting with a parting shot, " _but you didn't even know she was screwing the paper boy."_

Tucker checked his phone on his way out of the precinct. He had a text from Trevor Langan asking if he was free for a late lunch. Perfect timing. He could have lunch, think about something else for a bit, then head back to the office with a fresh perspective and hopefully finish off his timeline for the case.

…

"My ex is a good mother. She would fight, tooth and nail, to protect our children, down and dirty, beat the shit out of you to protect them, even if it means protecting them from me." Ed said to Langan over his sandwich.

"They don't need protection from you, Ed. You should still insist on your visitation exactly as it is set out in the custody decree," Langan pointed out. "You need to see your children. They would be better off having you as a fixture in their life."

"Not like this, they won't. Having me in their life would create absolute chaos for them. I will not have her dragging me through the mud in front of our children or the rest of our family on the basis of what she perceives as my perverted sexuality," Ed said.

"Ed, your sexuality is not wrong. You didn't do anything wrong. She was in the wrong. She's the one who broke her marriage vows. You didn't. She cheated on you," Langan insisted, highlighting his knowledge of Tucker's divorce documentation. "You shouldn't let her push you out of your children's lives like this. It's been going on for over six years and it's time you put a stop to it."

"Yeah, well, that argument sounds all well and good coming out of your mouth. You're good at that and yeah, it's true, but it doesn't really matter. What's changed really? She blocks my visitation. I file a report. She gets censured, pays the fine, forfeits child support, whatever. What does that do, really? It deprives my children of the money I'm giving her for them. How does anyone win in that situation? It keeps going on an on, a relentless cycle. I do it again. Maybe she gets jail time. How is that a win for my children? Their mother in jail?"

"So file the reports, get it on record, then request a modification of custody based on parental alienation and go for sole custody yourself," Langan argued.

"I looked into that when all this started. They'll just send it to mediation, then if I can actually prove that she's badmouthing me to the point of alienation and I take her to court," Ed sighed and gestured his arm about, "that's when she'll bring it up. As soon as my sexual history comes into play that will become the sole focus of everyone's attention, not the children. And believe me, she will bring my past into it."

"Ed," Langan started to argue, "A New York judge isn't going to discriminate against you based on sexuality or morality. It's just not done that way anymore."

"You can't be certain of that. Okay, even best case scenario, I get an unbiased judge, this could take years. No, I won't do it. As far as it affects my life, I really don't care. I don't think it would make that much difference at this point. But my children and the rest of my family should not be subjected to that kind of scrutiny, not if I can do anything about it. I won't put them through it. When they're all adults then I can sit down with them and discuss it, like civilized people. With her skewed perception of my former and current lifestyle, there is no way that can happen while they're all still minors. In one year, my oldest will be eighteen and I can approach her free and clear. Until then…" Ed trailed off making a gesture with his hands indicating that he had no intention of making waves.

"And in the meantime, they are exposed to all sorts of prejudices from their mother, which is not being a good mother, if you ask me," Langan replied.

"Yeah, well, we can't all be as lucky as you with our exes," Ed replied. "It's a free country. Siobhan can believe what she wants to believe, doesn't make it true."

"Yes, it is a free country, and we should be free to love who we love without discrimination," Langan said looking at him pointedly, "I hope your children realize that before it's too late and she's indoctrinated them with her bigotry."

"It's the nature of the beast," Ed replied. "Some children believe like their parents, some children go out of their way to believe the opposite of the their parents, and some children look around and wait to form their own opinions. I personally would encourage the latter, but I could have one or a combination of all three. If I'm lucky, as adults, my children will understand that I love them, I want what is best for them, and that I thought the absolute mayhem that their mother would make out of a custody battle was not in their best interests."

"If you're not around to tell them you love them, Ed, then how will they know?" Langan pointed out.

"I know, there's the kick," Ed said, "Look, they were all old enough to remember me being around before the split, and hopefully they remember and they realize my staying away from them is not by choice."

"Isn't it?" Langan asked. "Maybe they'll think you should have tried harder."

"They know their mother and what that would mean. I don't think you're giving my children enough credit," Ed said.

"Maybe that's true, but logic doesn't always preclude feelings, Ed," Langan said. "Sometimes what your feeling overrules what your brain is telling you…" he paused looking like he wanted to say something else and was not sure how, or even if, he was going to say it. Ed was being particularly open today, which was unusual. It had not taken much prodding for Ed to start talking about his ex-wife and their custody issues. Trevor was kind of at a loss for what had prompted the surly lieutenant's candidness.

"What?" Ed said giving him a look, bracing for it, "Just spit it out."

"What happened this morning?" Trevor enquired.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked.

"I was kind of surprised that you actually took time away from your big investigation to have a late lunch with me," Trevor said curiously.

"You asked," Ed said simply.

"Yeah, I had some motions to file before I headed back to the office but I figured you barreled into the job today and were still knocking heads together when I texted so I didn't hold much hope of hearing from you but lo and behold…" he gestured to their setting.

"Well, not so surprising. You're perceptive, counselor. You knew this case was gonna push my buttons, what with my ex and all…"

"Hmm. Yes, but that's not it, is it?" Trevor said speculatively.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked.

"You already asked that. Are we playing a circular reasoning game now? Stop stalling," Trevor said, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"I suspended Benson this morning, and before you ask me why, I can't tell ya that," Ed replied.

"Oh, gee, because I have no idea what case you were working this morning," Trevor spouted facetiously, "Are you serious, Ed? Benson would never leak information like that to the press. She's an advocate for victims of sexual crimes including hate crimes. That's just insane."

"What we do for a living does not always reflect our personal beliefs away from the job, ya know," Ed said, leaning back and crossing his arms defensively now.

"Olivia is not Siobhan, Ed," Trevor said vehemently, "Don't convict her of Siobhan's crimes. Benson has a real passion for what she does. Don't even try to tell me that it doesn't come from someplace personal for her."

"Yeah, well, I have evidence," Ed started.

"Bet it's circumstantial evidence," Trevor prompted.

"It's none of your business evidence, counselor" Ed retorted.

"Lieutenant," Trevor smirked at him, "I dare you to take that tone with me later."

"Don't start something you can't finish, counselor," Ed warned.

"Oh, I'll be just fine finishing it, Lieutenant, don't you worry about me," Trevor returned.

"I gotta go," Ed said getting up and walking over to stand beside Trevor's chair placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, "Thanks for the talk and the perspective. I needed it today"

"I know." Trevor replied seriously then shrugged, "Don't worry about the bill, I got it."

"Wasn't plannin' on worryin' about it, counselor," Ed tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

…

"Hey, I got you that dark roast you like at that place on the corner, but you're later back to the office than I expected so you may have to nuke it. Figured I'd stay on your good side since you've been in such a good mood lately," Cole laughed then realized he was now on the other end of a Tucker death stare, "Or not," he finished.

"Thanks for thought," Tucker said sarcastically setting the coffee aside, opening his briefcase and dumping a file, a detective's shield and a copy of _The Ledger_ on his desk.

"Where were you this morning? Who'd you suspend?" Cole asked looking confused.

"1-6. Benson" Tucker replied. Cole immediately gave him a surprised look.

"Benson? You think Benson's the one that leaked the Haver story? " Cole said surprised at this development.

"She's sleeping with the editor for _The Ledger_ ," Ed stated thumping a finger on the newspaper.

"So she pillow talked and he printed a story," Cole surmised, "That makes him the jackass, not her. Bet he gets dumped soon."

"You too?" Ed asked giving him a look of disbelief.

"Ed," Cole said, "give her a break. We all say things in bed that we shouldn't. I'm sure, even the staid Lieutenant Tucker has said some things while caught up in a passionate moment that he would never have said in the light of day," Cole smirked.

"This is serious, Draper," Ed said, "She outed a closeted homosexual. If Haver turns out to be innocent, this guy's entire career is over. There's no coming back from this for him." The phone on Tucker's desk rang, "Tucker," he barked picking it up then listened, "Huh, well, send him up."

"Who is it?" Draper asked curiously.

"Speak of the devil…" Tucker replied pointing to the paper on his desk.

"I thought Haver was in the hospital," Draper said confused.

"No, Cole, I meant the editor of _The Ledger_ ," Ed said condescendingly.

"Think he's gonna reveal his source?" Draper asked.

"Nah. Guy like that. No way," Tucker scoffed.

"Came to protect his woman then," Draper suggested knowingly.

"Now that I would buy," Tucker replied wryly.

"I'll bet she's a handful, that one," Draper said laughing.

"You have no idea," Tucker replied shaking his head.

…

Footnote – I know that I deviated from the show concerning Langan's career track but it fits better with the story I want to tell. I have issues with the idea that a 36 year old, assuming Langan is the same age as Hermann, would be a senior partner at his own law firm with a "big criminal defense division" (SVU episode 6.18 "Pure"). I'm not saying it couldn't happen but that realistically, it's more probable that he is an equity partner in a large firm that would have a division like Cragen described in that 2005 episode. In my story, the compensation committee of the firm has added various incentives for him to stay in his partnership and move further up the ranks in order to retain his client base and expertise in criminal law. I am no expert but I do have some experience in working for a so-called "top tier" family law firm in a different state that had three name partners. I started with the junior partner who was mid-30s then was promoted to a paralegal to the middle partner (after some social networking on my part) who was in his mid-40s. His team did most of the work and handled most of the clients in the firm. The senior partner swooped in later for the final client meetings and the court appearances then he went back to his golf game. He was in his 60s and none of the clients wanted to pay his hourly rate. They just wanted his name on the case because it scared everyone.

Also, I based their new condo on one currently available in the Atelier. Ed would most certainly not be living here if not for Langan, and I'm sure this was a huge argument that Ed's still sore about but I could see Langan living here easily. I plan to change the summary on the story with the next chapter to reflect a description of where the story is going. If you do not want to be spoiled, avoid reading the new description.


	4. Chapter 4

Cillian – KILL-ee-uhn

Saoirse – SEER-sha OR SAIR-sha

MONDAY, April 7, 2014

Olivia lingered outside the bar door before taking a deep breath and stepping into the establishment. She had never been to this particular bar before today, but then her commute home did not usually originate in Brooklyn. The subway had been stifling and overcrowded. She felt overwhelmed by everything, trapped. She had to get out of there. She had exited the train at the next stop to come up above ground simply to breathe. The idea of going home to an empty apartment right now was unappealing anyway.

The bar was already at half capacity, and would probably be crowded within the next hour as more people began to filter in, stopping off from work to enjoy happy hour on their way home. Olivia walked up to the long side of the bar and took a seat approximately in the middle. The stools were empty to either side. She contemplated her joined hands sitting on the bar in front of her looking neither right nor left, avoiding catching the eyes of any other patrons, as she waited for the bartender filling orders at the other end of the bar closest to the door. The bar made a ninety-degree turn there which enabled a few more seats before it dead ended against the wall.

He was dead. She snickered a little to herself at the thought. How ironic. He was dead and yet did it really matter? He was still manipulating her life from the grave. In a few short days, it could all be over. Her career. The one thing she had left in life that mattered. Her hopes for the future, her dreams for a family, it all fell by the wayside as she considered a life in which she could not go to work everyday and fight for victims. It was unfathomable.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked slipping a napkin into place in front of her.

"Can I see your wine list?"

He reached under the bar and put a laminated sheet in front of her then checked with another customer. He filled a glass of draft beer returning just as she finished perusing the short list of available wines. She chose a chardonnay that did not look too sketchy then glanced around while he completed his latest orders. Her eyes traveled over the worn wooden bar surface further down the long end back towards the door, then along the other side where her gaze suddenly froze on the patron sitting practically across from her. Oh, shit.

…

FRIDAY, August 3, 2008

It was an exceptionally beautiful day outside. The temperature was mid-eighties and Ed left the office early, got off the subway in Times Square and enjoyed the fifteen-minute walk back to the condo. The only thing curtailing his appreciation of the early Friday afternoon commute was the humidity. He changed out of his damp dress shirt and slacks into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He opened his briefcase and set a couple of files down on the dining room table before grabbing a glass of water and taking a seat.

Thirty minutes later, Ed found himself still sitting at the dining room table staring out the windows at the spectacular view of the city instead of working. He grabbed his phone and opened up the Open Table app and started skimming through a few restaurant ideas for the evening. It had been a hectic week at work for both him and his roommate. Trevor had a big trial starting Monday and Ed thought it would be nice to have a quiet dinner out tonight. He scrolled through his choices and finally settled on Barbetta, hoping they still had reservations available for the evening. He quickly booked a table for two at half past eight and then set his phone aside.

Ed flipped through the documents he had spread across the dining room table. He ran his left hand down his face, then cupped his cheek and leaned on his elbow to review the phone records of an officer who was accused of tipping off a suspect that he was the target of a sting operation. Ed had an interview scheduled on the matter for Monday morning. Ed's phone buzzed across the table and he looked at the screen to see who was calling.

"Hello?" he answered seeing that it was the concierge desk.

"Lt. Tucker?" Ed recognized George's voice.

"Yes. Is there a problem? We get a package? I'm home." Ed informed the man.

"You have a visitor, sir. A young man is here to see you. Says his name is Cillian Tucker," George told Ed in a low professional voice.

"Cillian, you say?" Ed asked, dropping his pen and jumping up from his chair. "Shit. Umm, sorry. Please send him up. Thank you, George."

"Most certainly, Lt. Tucker. I'll send the young man right up."

Ed took a deep breath. Cillian was here. What did it mean? Was he in trouble? Had something happened? His mind started spinning out of control then he reined it in. No need to panic until he could assess the situation. He took another deep breath and walked towards the front door and threw it open, stepping out into the hall and looking around. It was too soon. He went back inside and closed the door turning to stare at it intently.

What should he do? How should he act? He walked back over to the table and picked up his phone. Maybe he should text Trevor. Trevor would know what to say. Ed changed his mind. There was no time for that. He walked back over to the door and pulled it open again, stepping back out into the hallway. He saw a lanky young teenager walking towards him. Surely, that could not be Cillian. He was too tall. Shit. Had he really grown that much in the last year and a half? How was it possible that he had not seen his son in almost eighteen months?

"Dad," the thirteen-year-old boy greeted him. He looked like he had grown almost a foot since Ed saw him last. That really hurt. Maybe Trevor was right and this was not the right decision for his children.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong? Your sisters?" Ed could not refrain from asking, expecting the worst.

"Everyone's fine," Cillian replied rolling his eyes in typical teenage fashion.

 _Damn_ , Ed thought to himself, _when had that happened?_

"Chill, Dad."

"Does your mother know where you are?" Ed asked him.

"She thinks I'm at the library working on an art project with Sammy," Cillian responded. "Which I will be…later. I took the 1 into Manhattan to see you," he informed Ed, referring to the subway line that ran through Kingsbridge, the location of Ed's old family home and where his now ex-wife and children currently reside.

"I thought school didn't start for another three weeks?" Ed asked, confused.

"It's just a project that we were working on over the summer. We just have to do some finishing touches on it," Cillian explained, shrugging it off.

"How did you even know where to come?" Ed asked, leading Cillian into the entryway and closing the door behind them. Cillian's eyes did a double take and he stopped short as he took in the view from the floor to ceiling windows wrapping around the entirety of the living space and kitchen. While the Manhattan condo was technically smaller in comparison to Ed's former semi-detached brick house, it more than made up for it with its spacious floor plan and ostentatious views.

"Grandma Caroline," Cillian's voice dropped into an almost whisper, cracking a bit. He stopped to look at the wall in the entryway, which held a variety of photographs of both Ed and Trevor's children at various ages. Ed may not have seen his children more than a once or twice a year since the divorce but his mother had kept him stocked with photos from the various holidays and visits. As long as Siobhan thought Ed was not around, she had no problem dumping the kids in his mother's care while she took off to do whatever it was she did with her time.

"Wow," Cillian croaked, "This place is…wow. So, Cupcake must be taking real good care of you, huh, Dad?" he grinned at Ed.

"'Cupcake'?" Ed looked confused.

"Yeah, that's what Mom calls your boyfriend," Cillian smirked at him.

"Christ," Ed muttered and walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. "Do you want something to drink? Water? Juice? Milk? I think there may be soda in the pantry. Trevor hides some in the back since I try not to drink it very often. You can clean a carburetor with that stuff but if you want some, I can pull it out, pour it over ice?"

"Yeah, sure, soda would be good," Cillian walked straight through into the living area and over to the windows to take in the view. "What's a carburetor?" Ed turned and looked at the boy in abject horror. "Just kidding. It has something to do with a car right?"

"Does your mother not have any men around the house at all?" Ed asked exasperatedly. Ed's father had lived and breathed cars. He had owned a garage and made sure every single one of his children, including Ed's sister, knew how to fix the most common issues with a vehicle. From the time Ed could walk upright and hold a wrench, he had been taking cars apart and putting them back together with his father. With his prior mechanical experience in his dad's garage throughout his teenage years, it came as no surprise to anyone when Ed specialized as a wheeled vehicle mechanic after he made it through basic training in the army.

"Not any that are interested in talking to me," shrugged Cillian.

"Do you play any sports?" Ed asked, handing him a glass of soda he had poured over a couple of ice cubes. He indicated that they should sit on the dark gray leather couch and took a sip of his own soda before placing it on the glass coffee table in front of them.

"I started with the swim team last year," Cillian said, "I like it. I was the fastest on the team with the butterfly."

Ed looked impressed. Swimming, not what he expected but he felt a strong feeling of pride at his son's accomplishment. "Your mom come to all your meets and cheer you on?"

"She came to the first couple, that's it. I think she finds most of the swim parents boring so she usually just comes to get me after practice."

"When's your next meet?" Ed asked thinking this might be an opportunity to see one or more of his kids. Ed usually got a chance to see the kids at his mother's birthday celebration but Siobhan had kept them away this year.

"I don't have the schedule yet but probably around November," Cillian said, "We were pretty much off for the summer then we'll start up with practice again after school starts. I worked on my strokes a lot this summer so I'm hoping to be even faster this year."

"What about your sisters? Do they participate in any sports?" Ed asked. Ed's mother never mentioned sports though Ed had enjoyed playing softball with the girls when they were younger.

Cillian informed his father that his twin sister was on the swim team as well. Good, Ed thought, that's two of them.

"The others are into volleyball, and Mom's crew all hang out at the volleyball games. Their kids are on the team too. But I'm not sure Saoirse is going to be on the team this year."

"Why not?" Ed asked, curious about his oldest daughter. This would be her senior year. He would have thought that she would want to enjoy it with her friends.

"She's going to be the editor of the school newspaper and she's trying to get an internship at WFUV but that's a long shot. She really wants to study journalism," Cillian told him, clearly proud of his sister's ambitions. Ed picked up his glass and took another sip of his soda to cover his nerves. He was missing so much of his children's formative years.

"Dad?" Cillian asked him tentatively.

"Yeah?" Ed answered casually. He had a feeling that Cillian was about to reveal the reason for this impromptu visit.

"How did you know you were gay?" Cillian asked. "I mean, I know you didn't know when you married Mom, or you wouldn't have married her right?" he rushed on before a dumbfounded Ed could even think about an answer, "but how did you figure it out?"

Ed sat frozen, forgetting to breathe. This conversation was unexpected; however, knowing his ex-wife, he probably should have anticipated it.

"Dad?" Cillian questioned, tentatively, dismay starting to spread across his face.

"Give me a second, Cillian," Ed said taking a deep breath. "You just surprised me." He drained the rest of his soda and set the glass back down on the table. "First of all, despite what your mother may have told you, I am not a homosexual."

"You don't have to lie, Dad," Cillian said patiently, "I know you live with a man. I overheard Grandma Caroline talking about your boyfriend. She likes him. I'm not judging you for being gay. It's okay if you didn't know. I don't think you're going to hell like Mom says."

"That's not what I meant," Ed sighed and took another deep breath. He scooted up to the edge of the couch and pressed the palms of his hands together between his spread legs resting his elbows on his knees. "You obviously understand what a homosexual is but do you know what a bisexual is?"

"Isn't that when someone likes both men and women? Mom says that's not a really a thing, that it's just men pretending that they're straight when they're really gay and just don't want people to know. I love you anyway, Dad, even if you are gay. I don't mind." Cillian insisted compassionately.

Ed sighed again. How did he explain this to his son when the boy's mother had obviously filled his head with a bunch of junk? "The thing is, Cillian, I am attracted to both men and women. I fell in love with your mother. I wanted to marry her and have a family. We were married for eleven years and I never cheated, male or female. That last year, when things started to go wrong, your mother overheard me mention that I had been with a man before I met her. That was something that I had not shared with her before we were married and perhaps that was wrong of me. I would have been perfectly happy being committed to your mother for the rest of my life. Just because I am attracted to both men and women does not mean that I cannot commit and be faithful to one person. That's what I wanted, but your mother didn't want the same thing."

Ed stopped talking for a moment and looked at Cillian. The boy had a look of utter confusion on his face. It was obvious Ed's version of events was at complete odds with the story his mother had given him. Ed felt like he had no control over the information his children were given; however, unlike Siobhan, he was not going to tell his son that his mother was wrong nor was he going to tell his son anything about Siobhan's own actions, whether they were out of retaliation or whatever her reasons for them. That was not for Cillian to worry about. Just trying to absorb Ed's side of the story was going to be hard enough for the boy.

"So you waited until you and Mom split up to actually date this guy you're living with now?" Cillian clarified.

"Actually, I only met Trevor a little less than two years ago. We started hanging out last spring and we bought this place just after New Years," Ed explained then added, "this year."

"Oh," Cillian still looked confused. "Who were you with before that?"

"No one since your mom. I didn't feel comfortable starting to date again. It just didn't feel right. Then I started hanging out with Trevor and one thing led to another," Ed shrugged, thinking that was probably plenty of information to give his teenage son about how the relationship evolved. There was definitely no need to go into the finer details and certainly unnecessary to mention Rita or anything concerning those types of proclivities. Those details definitely fell into the too much information category.

"Before I met your mother," Ed continued, "I was in the army for about ten years. I dated mostly women though I had an army buddy that I went out with for a while. We broke things off before I was discharged. He was stationed overseas for a few years after that. He was the man that your mother overheard me discussing. I was attracted to boys in high school but never dated any, just girls. I guess I felt uncomfortable experimenting in my backyard so to speak, around kids and parents that knew my family. I was afraid of what might happen if anyone found out. I guess I was careful about what I did and said around people, even as a teenager." Ed looked directly into Cillian's light blue eyes, so much like his own. They were filled with bewilderment at the information that Ed had disclosed to him. Ed decided it was time for a break and to let the boy regroup before revisiting the reason for his visit.

"Are you hungry? Need a snack? Another soda?" Ed asked. Cillian looked at the glass that was sitting in front of him. The ice had melted and was covered in condensation despite the air conditioning in the condo.

"Um, yeah, another soda would be good, and maybe a snack too," Cillian cleared his throat, his voice sounded like it was right in the middle of changing but he seemed fairly comfortable with it so it must have been going on for a while now. Suddenly Ed clued into why Cillian might be asking all of these questions. Maybe he was not just curious about his father's life and what had happened. Maybe he was curious about where his own life was heading? Is it possible that his son had feelings of the same nature? He was thirteen. That was certainly old enough to start questioning things. The boy turned towards the windows again and got up and walked over to stare out over the sunlit city.

Ed dried off their glasses and refilled them, then opened the refrigerator to see what Trevor had stowed away in the form of snacks. Despite his messy housekeeping skills, Trevor always had a fully stocked refrigerator, usually hitting the market on the weekends and often during the week on the way home from work. Ed's takeout habit had dropped substantially since they had started cohabiting. Ed grabbed a container of chopped fruit, another one that held a variety of pre-sliced cheeses, then pulled some whole grain crackers from the pantry and dumped a bunch of everything on a plate. He took it back into the living area and placed it on the coffee table.

"Eat up," he told Cillian with a smile and relaxed back on the couch taking some crackers and cheese and a handful of grapes to nosh on for himself. Cillian made a beeline for the plate and pretty much demolished it in a matter of minutes.

"Would you like more?" Ed asked his lips curling up slightly with amusement.

"No, thanks. I'm good now," Cillian replied draining the soda too.

"So, what would you like to ask me?" Ed asked casually, trying his best to be open and not pry too intensely.

"Did you know when you were my age that you liked both boys and girls?" Cillian asked.

"I knew I was curious about others' bodies, both boys and girls, but I'm not sure that I knew that it was actual attraction yet," Ed replied trying to think back to when he actually realized that his curiosity in the locker room had been more about sexual attraction than just curiosity about whether his body was different than the other boys and sex in general. "Right now, your body is probably overwhelmed by all sorts of feelings due to all the new hormones that are coursing through you. Just because you're curious or turned on all the time by all sorts of people, thoughts, situations…" Ed paused to formulate some thoughts that he thought might ease Cillian's anxiety. "As your body adjusts to all these changes that may alter what attracts you or it may not. Everyone's a little different, Cillian. If you know you are attracted to boys and/or girls, then you know and that's fine too; but if you're not sure, then now is probably not the time to start trying to put labels on yourself, if ever."

"Okay," Cillian said looking thoughtful but less anxious.

"Has your mother sat down and had 'the talk' with you?" Ed asked, thinking surely she had, the boy was obviously well into puberty.

"Uh, no, not really," Cillian said looking around anxiously again. He told Ed that he overheard her speaking to his twin in her bedroom one day. "She mentioned periods and that she should keep her legs shut around boys or she'd end up in trouble, but she never really said anything to me except something like 'stay out of trouble'."

Ed started to roll his eyes then caught himself. The old double standard rears its head again.

"You've probably learned about the science part of it in health class, but if you have any questions about the mechanics of sex then I'd be happy to answer them. I don't want you to feel like you can't ask me questions about anything. You might not always like my answers but I'll try to always be open and honest with you. As far as the feelings and actually doing something, that I do want to address with you because sex is a very serious, and if you're not careful you can get hurt, the person that you're with could get hurt, both emotionally and physically. There are diseases and pregnancy to worry about too. I'm not trying to scare you here. I just want you to understand that this is very serious and I want you to be comfortable with it before you make any kind of decisions where sex is concerned," Ed paused as if a thought had just occurred to him, "Oh, have you had sex yet?"

"No, of course not," Cillian exclaimed his face turning beet red.

"There's no 'of course not' in this situation, Cillian" Ed said, "I heard that the first person in my class to have sex was twelve and that was over thirty-five years ago. So, think about that question again and give me an honest answer, bud."

"No, Dad, I have not had sex yet," Cillian answered carefully enunciating the words and sighing deeply.

"Alright. Is there anyone in particular that you like?" Ed asked.

"No one specifically," Cillian hesitated. "Sometimes anyone and everyone I see makes me think about it."

"That I do remember," Ed laughed a little self-consciously, "I felt exactly the same way." Cillian timidly smiled back at his father. "Alright, so first off, you always want to show respect for the other person you're with, whether it's a girl or a boy. Just like your other relationships, treat others the same way you expect to be treated. You've always been sensitive to the moods of those around you, always the people pleaser, so this probably will come to you easily but sometimes those pesky hormones can take over your brain and you do need to slow it down and think about the fact that you're not the only person in the situation."

"Um, Dad?" Cillian interrupted him hesitantly.

"Ask it, son." Ed told him.

"What about masturbating, does it really make Jesus cry?" Cillian asked anxiously.

"Are they still teaching that shit?" Ed closed his eyes and sighed and lectured himself about going off on a tangent about his religious beliefs. "Sorry, you didn't hear dad just say that. I think that Jesus has other things to worry about in the world than whether you're masturbating or not. Do you still help Mrs. O'Neill take her groceries up the stairs?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then I'm sure that Jesus is proud of you for helping others. You keep up those kind of good deeds and I'm sure he'll overlook a few minor things like that. It's nothing you should be ashamed of," Ed swallowed and tried to get back on track. "Okay, let's talk about consent. You always want to make sure that anything you do whether it's kissing or touching or any kind of sexual contact is okay with that person. Don't just assume that they are okay with it because they are not saying anything. Make sure that they are comfortable with it by asking them. Do you know what rape is?"

"Its when a guy forces a girl to have sex with him," Cillian replied.

"Take the genders out of that sentence," Ed told him seriously. "It's when anyone forces someone else, their gender doesn't matter. Guys can get raped too."

"But Mom said…" Cillian paused and thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that a guy could get raped too. I hadn't thought about it that way." Ed smiled to himself. Cillian clearly had the ability to question authority and come up with his own conclusions.

"Have you spoken to your mother about any of this?" Ed asked concerned about what Siobhan might have told him.

"Hell no," Cillian exclaimed, then after seeing a pointed look from his father, he contritely backed up and finished, "Uh, no sir, I haven't mentioned anything about this to her. She always makes nasty comments about you being gay, well about anyone being gay, so we all try to avoid the subject around her. I'm her kid though, right? She loves me unconditionally so it shouldn't matter."

Cillian shrugged nonchalantly but he didn't look at Ed as he said it. Ed had thought that Siobhan would love him unconditionally. He was her mate, but it had not turned out that way for him. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and tell Cillian that of course his mother would love him unconditionally, but given his own experience, Ed was not so sure. Would the hurt of her rejection and the vitriol that followed ever go away? Would her turning against him as if he were suddenly not just a stranger, but her enemy as well, always pierce his heart with such pain?

"Do you know what a condom is?" Ed asked, changing the subject from Siobhan.

"Yeah, Dad, I know what a condom is," Cillian answered rolling his eyes.

"Good," Ed smirked at the look on the teenagers face, "Do you know what to do with it?"

"I'm sure I can figure it out," Cillian said, another eye roll.

"Nope. No figuring it out. I'll get some and we'll practice," Ed jumped up and went in the bedroom to grab a strip from the nightstand and called to Cillian to meet him in the kitchen.

"Practice? Really, Dad?" Cillian gave him an incredulous look.

"Wouldn't want ya to mess this part up. It's important, bud." Ed said looking around the kitchen. "I think we have some bananas somewhere that would probably work. Oh, hey! I think there are some cucumbers in the produce drawer. Let's see what size they are. Which should we use small, medium or large?" He came up from the produce drawer with a handful of cucumbers and a grin on his now very red face.

"Dad!" Cillian started laughing hysterically. Then Ed pulled out the condoms and got to work showing his son how to use them.

"Hey, Ed. You are never going to believe what I have in this box!" Trevor commented as he entered the condo balancing a box and his briefcase in one hand while tossing his keys in a bowl on the table by the door. "It's practically a year's supply of the best coffee beans you'll ever lay your taste buds on. My client said that they were Class 1 whatever that means," He turned to continue into the kitchen then stopped short realizing that there was a young male teenager staring at him in horror with what looked like a cucumber with a condom pulled over it in his hand. "Oh, umm, oops, I didn't realize that you had company." Trevor continued to stare at the cucumber with a strange look on his face.

"Hey!" Ed replied, smirking at the two frozen individuals in front of him. "Trevor, this is my son, Cillian."

Trevor moved to sit his briefcase and the case of coffee down on the kitchen counter. "Hi, Cillian, it's great to finally meet you," he said holding out his right hand to shake. Cillian stared at it for a moment before reaching behind him to surreptitiously place the condom covered cucumber on the granite covered island before shaking Trevor's hand with his own. As he tightened his grasp in the older man's hand, to his dismay, the cucumber started to roll back across the counter and fell at their feet. Everyone in the kitchen stared as the cucumber rolled across the kitchen floor and came to rest against one of Trevor's dress shoes.

"So, umm, what exactly is the plan for this very safe looking cucumber?" Trevor asked eyeing it, the line between his eyes deeply furrowed then suddenly everyone burst out laughing.

…

"I just don't understand it," Olivia said, taking a sip of her beer. She and Elliot had spent a couple of hours that afternoon reviewing their notes on a case going to trial on Monday.

"What's that?" Elliot asked, motioning to their bartender to bring another round.

"Bartlett," Olivia answered, "What motivates a man to sleep with his son's girlfriend? Is it as simple as she was a woman and she was there?"

"Guy seems like he's in a competition with everyone to me," Elliott gave the bartender a nod as he set another round of beers in front of the two detectives. "Probably doesn't have anyone left to compete with but his son."

"I would understand if it was a friend or peer, but your own son? Why would a man feel compelled to compete with his own children?" Olivia shook her head. "Not like it's the first time we've seen it either. That family coalition guy, remember him? Father of his own grandchild. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised this time around."

"All families are dysfunctional in some way," Elliot replied gesturing with his beer, "just some more than others."

"You don't have to tell me that," Olivia laughed then sighed and set her beer down, looking along the bar at the other patrons. "Makes me wonder sometimes why I want one so badly."

"Everything going okay with you?" Olivia turned to Elliot in askance at his question. He shrugged deviating the topic a little. "Seeing anyone?"

"Not really."

"You need to get yourself out there again. Start working on making that family for yourself," Elliot pointed out. She knew what he was thinking. If she never put herself out there, she would not reach her goal of having that family someday. At this point in her life, with everything that had happened this year, she had a few personal priorities that were taking precedence.

"Dr. Beresford asked me out but we keep missing each other." Olivia picked her beer back up and took a sip.

"Huh," Elliot replied, "He's just now getting around to asking you out? I figured he woulda done that years ago."

"He did. Like I said, we just keep missing each other and it falls by the wayside. We'll make plans and then I get called in on a case. We make plans again he gets called to the hospital. Then he's with someone or I'm with someone, then it starts all over again. It kinda makes it hard to even get to know each other if we can't even make it to our first date," Olivia said.

"If it's taking this long to go on the first date then he's probably not the right one," Elliot contemplated.

"Why would you assume that?" Olivia asked.

"Because if you thought he was, I think that you would find a way to make it to that first date," Elliot smiled at her. "You're tenacious that way."

Olivia just gave Elliot a look and curled her lip at the compliment. "Maybe it's just not the right time," she shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe it's not," Elliot said, looking thoughtful again. He was mentally reviewing the events of the past year as well. He finished his second beer and set it down looking at his watch. "Well, I probably ought to head home. I'll drop you on the way," he offered as he motioned the bartender for the check and took out his wallet.

"Thanks for the drink," Olivia told him rising off the barstool. "I think I'll try to catch up on my sleep this exciting Friday night."

Elliot gave her a look that clearly stated she should be doing something else on a Friday night.

"I know, I know," Olivia replied laughing, "but I'll probably get called back in the minute my head hits the pillow."

…

The waiter finished pouring the rest of the bottle of Ceretto Barbaresco into their glasses before he removed the plates filled with the remnants of Ed's veal and Trevor's mushroom risotto.

"So, what brought this on?" Trevor asked gesturing around the garden dining area of Barbetta's with his wine glass.

"It was such a beautiful day today that I just wanted to do something special," Ed shrugged taking a last drink of the wine Trevor had chosen, setting his now empty glass back down on the table and leaning back to look around the garden, eyes finally coming to rest on the fountain in the center. He contemplated the serenity of the moment just listening to the peaceful sounds of the running water.

"This is your idea of special? A romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant?" Trevor teased.

"I didn't even know this was out here. I just booked a table for two inside, but you're the mister fancy pants, knowing the staff by name, getting special treatment," Ed joshed with him. "It is kinda romantic out here, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Trevor replied, "we do a lot of client lunches at this place plus we've also had some partner dinners in the private rooms upstairs. This is one of the senior partner's favorite restaurants. Did you save room for dessert?"

"What do you think?"

Trevor laughed knowingly. Ed had an incorrigible sweet tooth and a weakness for chocolate of any variety. He more than made up for it by eating healthy most of the time and living a very active lifestyle. Even though his legs were considerably shorter, Ed easily kept pace with Trevor when they went running together. When the waiter returned to check on them Ed ordered the orange chocolate mousse while Trevor decided on the panna cotta.

They lingered over espressos simply appreciating each other's company and the pleasant evening in the small but beautiful garden grounds listening to the sounds of the city encompassing their little semi-private corner. Ed insisted on paying the bill for the dinner then suggested they leisurely stroll back to the condo further extending their enjoyment of their relaxing dinner out.

"Want a brandy or something?" Trevor asked unlocking the condo door and holding it open for Ed to walk through.

"Nah," Ed replied closing the door firmly behind him. He placed a hand along the bottom of Trevor's right bicep and reached his right hand up to cup the back of Trevor's neck pulling him down for a slow sensual kiss.

"Straight for the bedroom, huh?" Trevor laughed pulling back.

"I think I wanna take my time with you," Ed replied looking up at him enigmatically.

"Sounds good," Trevor said taking Ed's hand and leading him down the hall to their bedroom. "This has really been your day so let's just keep with that theme. Why don't you strip down and lay on the bed and I'll give you a massage to start off with?"

"I like the way you think, counselor."

Ed removed his clothing down to his black boxer briefs and carefully laid them across a chair sitting against the wall, leaving his shoes and socks behind as well. He pulled back the bedspread and top sheet and then lay down on his stomach resting the side of his head on the arms he crossed beneath. Trevor stripped off everything, leaving a trail of clothing behind him on the floor, and climbed on the bed, straddling Ed's hips. He unhurriedly started to massage Ed's shoulders following the muscles back down behind the blades, kneading firmly as his strong hands slid along Ed's skin.

"Wow," Trevor remarked in a low voice, "You're already quite relaxed. This really was a good day for you, wasn't it?"

"Hmm," Ed replied, "still feels good though. Don't stop."

Trevor rested his left hand against Ed's shoulder blade then reached a long arm across the bed to the nightstand drawer, grabbing a bottle of massage oil and a few other items he laid beside them on the bed. He squirted a dab in his hands and rubbed them together warming it up with the heat of his palms, then started the massage again at the top of Ed's shoulders. He slowly followed the path of Ed's spine, firmly pressing the pads of his fingers along each vertebra as he moved lower until finally coming to rest at his tailbone.

Ed took a deep breath of anticipation then waited patiently to feel where Trevor's hands would move next. With only a slight pause of hesitation, Trevor spread his fingers out then moved his palms in slow sweeping motions from the base of Ed's spine out around his ribcage and back as he travelled leisurely back up to Ed's shoulders before leaning over the man beneath him to place a gentle kiss along the back of his neck.

Ed's breath caught and a shiver raced down his spine as Trevor placed open mouth kisses along his shoulders then running his mouth up to that one tight spot where his neck met his right shoulder, he bit down firmly. Ed groaned in response then flipped places with the lawyer, grabbing him with both arms and pushing Trevor firmly back onto their bed and settling the entire weight of his body on top of him, holding him down.

"You're a tease," Ed accused.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Trevor challenged his pulse racing in expectation.

"Well, first you'll get a reward for that massage. Don't want you accusing me of not returning the favor," Ed leaned down to whisper gruffly in the other man's ear, "and then you're going to be at my mercy, any way I want you."

Trevor moaned excited by the idea of letting Ed have his way with him then laid back in acquiescence as Ed pulled back to observe the man sprawled out before him. Ed captured the ardent look in Trevor's eyes then laid the back of his hand on Trevor's chest. Ed's eyes dropped gradually to watch his hand draw unhurriedly down Trevor's mid-section, dragging his knuckles against Trevor's skin, his touch firm but gentle. As he made his way below the indention of Trevor's navel, he turned his hand over and sifted his fingers back up through the trail of hair leading to his destination and slyly looked up at Trevor.

"Who's teasing now?" Trevor grumbled.

"Turnabout's fair play," Ed returned pursing an eyebrow at him before dropping his gaze back to where his fingers were playing with the hair on Trevor's lower abdomen.

"Where's my so-called reward?" Trevor demanded.

"So-called?" Ed scoffed. "You won't be complaining when you get it. Believe me, man. You'll be moaning my name before I'm done with you."

"Promises, promises," Trevor started to chant then gasped as Ed's hand dropped to grasp his engorged arousal with a strong grip. Ed draped his body across Trevor leaning on his left elbow near the longer man's shoulder tugging his member with an irregular rhythm. Trevor pushed his head back into the pillow it was now buried in, thrusting his hips towards Ed's hand as his eyes rolled wildly. Ed leaned over him to take his lips in a firm kiss. He toyed with Trevor's lips a little; gently nibbling then thrust his tongue boldly past their barrier to rub insistently against Trevor's before pulling back a little to gaze into his blue eyes.

"What? No witty comebacks?" Ed mocked then with no preamble he moved confidently back down to Trevor's hips placing his head above where he held Trevor in his right hand tugging even more firmly while Trevor continued to writhe against the bed. Trevor watched Ed raise his light blue eyes to observe his reaction as he assertively rimmed his tongue around the head of Trevor's erection. Ed paused to dip into the slit at the top and tongued it boldly. Trevor groaned again and reached down for Ed, clutching at his shoulder.

Ed took the plump head in his mouth and sucked lightly, teasingly, then pulled back to follow a vein with his tongue down Trevor's shaft to the base, the tugging of his hand starting to pick up a more regular rhythm. He moved away from Trevor, temporarily pulling out of his grasp, to reach of the bottle of lube on the bed and quickly coated a couple of fingers on his right hand. Trevor's hands gripped the sheets as Ed grasped him once again in his left hand and gave him a couple of good pumps before lowering his head down again and taking him in his mouth more firmly this time.

Ed slid his head down further tonguing the delicious mouthful then brushed the knuckles of his right hand against the base of Trevor's ball sacs applying backwards pressure as he continued further down with his mouth breathing through his nose. He flipped his hand and palmed the pair in his hand before sliding his lubed forefinger along Trevor's perineum then back to rim the tight muscles of his sphincter. Trevor responsively reacted pumping his hips towards Ed's face and reaching for his head to cradle it in his palm as Ed pulled back away from him.

"Don't stop," Trevor whispered as Ed turned his head to the side and took a deep breath. Ed turned back to look up at him his blue eyes barely slits under his eyelashes then lowered his head back to Trevor's stiff erection. He circled the head again with his tongue then gradually sucked the rest of him back into his mouth moving further down his length while continuing his exploration with his forefinger pushing it gently against the muscles now tightening instinctually around it.

Ed cupped Trevor's balls in his left hand squeezing gently while his lubed right forefinger explored inside him. He took Trevor more deeply in his mouth, now sucking relentlessly. Trevor's body twisted against the sheets, his senses overwhelmed by the pleasure Ed was bombarding all over his body. Ed observed Trevor's reactions carefully pulling back periodically only to begin his assault on Trevor's senses all over again. He maneuvered a second finger into Trevor, looked for that sweet spot and began to put pressure on it. Moving his left hand to the base of Trevor's cock, Ed took him as far to the back of his throat as he could handle without choking then he swallowed.

"Oh, god," Trevor moaned, "I'm gonna…" Ed immediately pulled away from Trevor, removing all stimulation except for the left hand that gripped the base of Trevor, tightening the hold to pressure back his orgasm. Shocked at the abrupt cease of movement, Trevor looked up at Ed. "Why did you stop, Ed? Finish me," he insisted vehemently. Ed sat back away from Trevor removing all physical contact with his body.

"Face down in the pillow, counselor," Ed told Trevor as he removed his final article of clothing, "I told you I would have you my way tonight, any way I want you, at my mercy, and I want you face down in that pillow moaning my name when I finally give you what you need."

Trevor looked a little surprised by Ed's assertiveness but carefully moved to turn into the position Ed was demanding still breathing heavily at having his orgasm snatched from him at the last second. Normally, he would have argued over those demands but tonight Trevor felt the need emanating from Ed's body to take charge of those aspects of his life under his control, not to mention Ed's aggressiveness in bed this evening was unbelievably titillating.

Ed tore open a condom, rolled it on then applied a generous amount of lube to it then added more to the palm of one hand, snapped the bottle shut and dropped it aside. He moved up behind Trevor telling him to raise his hips. Trevor moved his knees further up the bed to accommodate Ed's request, leaving his head buried in the pillow while Ed drew his dry hand up against his own back, sliding it easily in through the remnants of the massage oil that Trevor had left behind.

Ed stretched his back leisurely then placed his oiled hand against Trevor's buttock and slid it easily along his back. Trevor felt the soothing touch move across the small of his back, down his left cheek then along the back of his leg before Ed's hand took a path inching up closer to his inner thigh and ending at the edge of his buttock. Ed spread the malleable flesh to one side as he began to work the lube in his remaining hand into the crease of Trevor's buttocks. Ed easily slipped two fingers back into the tight muscles that he had loosened with his earlier play.

Trevor started, jerking his hips forward in an effort to find stimulation on his arousal. Ed raised his left hand to rub his lower back soothingly. "Just a little bit more," he said in a low husky voice, gently scissoring his fingers inside Trevor, opening that tight space up to take him. He brought his fingers back together then pressed in and down, stimulating Trevor to gasp Ed's name desperately at the sensations radiating through his body.

"Ed, please. Finish it." Trevor gasped urgently as Ed eased off the pressure on his prostate then pulled his fingers back.

"Yes, I do believe I will," Ed responded smugly grasping Trevor's hips securely and pulling them back against him. Ed rubbed himself against the crease of Trevor's backside enjoying the sensation of the more intimate contact of their flesh together finally. Ed positioned his erection and pushed firmly forward against the tightened muscles of Trevor's backside while Trevor firmly grasped his arms around the pillow underneath his head and braced himself for Ed's penetration.

"Relax," Ed said huskily, moving his left hand to rub comfortingly against Trevor's lower back again. He watched Trevor take a deep breath then slowly let it out as Ed felt the muscles give and pushed further forward into the man underneath him. Ed groaned as he finally sank all the way to the hilt and Trevor gasped at his own pleasure-pain as Ed brushed solidly against that sweet bundle of nerves then dragged back against it again as he pulled back almost all the way. "Damn. You're so hot and so tight. Are you comfortable?" Ed asked gauging the reaction of the man below him to see if he needed more lubricant.

"Comfortable?" Trevor mumbled into the pillow. "Am I comfortable he finally asks. No, I'm not comfortable. You've been teasing me relentlessly since we practically hit the bedroom door. Get on with it, will ya?"

"Ah, there's that smart mouth. I thought you were being too quiet tonight," Ed smirked tunneling forward more forcefully this time stopping directly over the spot he felt Trevor jerk at then moved intentionally back and forth over it until Trevor was gasping in ecstasy with his head burrowing further into the pillow. Trevor left one hand gripping the sheets at his side and slipped the other underneath him to clasp his own erection in his hand.

"Unh, uh," Ed clucked his tongue at him and reaching past Trevor's hip to remove his hand and replace it with his own. "This is my party." Trevor groaned in response but Ed did not leave him to his frustration for long. Finally giving into his own urges to continue moving inside Trevor, Ed braced one hand against Trevor's back. While he fisted Trevor's rigid length in his still lubed hand, Ed began to move him back and forth in concert with his own thrusts driving the longer man into the mattress until Trevor came hard with Ed's name on his lips. Ed followed shortly thereafter, collapsing in exhaustion against his back.

The two men lay momentarily gasping for breath, waiting for their senses to creep back into normalcy after the extreme overload of sensation. With a deep moan of satisfaction, Ed placed a quick kiss on Trevor's shoulder, pulled out and dropped to the side bouncing a little to roll his body off the bed. He moved quickly toward the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up a little. Trevor was slower to rise and grimaced as he stood next to the bed and took in the mess of rumpled sheets.

"Guess we need to change the sheets before we turn in," he mumbled. He grabbed a new set of sheets from the closet and returned to find Ed already stripping the bed.

"Go wash up if you want and I'll get us a glass of water then we can put those on and go to bed," Ed said walking for the door with the soiled sheets bundled in his hand. As he passed by Trevor, he trailed his fingers lightly along his shoulder in an affectionate gesture then continued down the hall to drop the bundle near the laundry. Trevor's eyes followed the shorter but well-built man as he strode confident and naked down the hall. Ed returned a few moments later with a couple of tumblers filled with water and they made quick work of putting the sheets on and climbed into bed.

Ed maneuvered them so that he was plastered up against Trevor's back, spooning the larger man. They usually went to sleep in this position after sex and would often flip at some point during the night into the opposite position with Trevor draped across Ed's back. Trevor sighed and looked out the window facing his side of the bed feeling Ed's body winding down with fatigue as his heart beat steadily, reassuringly against Trevor's back.

Trevor felt the urge to say something and practically bit his tongue to stop himself from spilling a feeling that he imagined might ruin everything that they were slowly starting to build between them. It was still so precarious. They were just settling into a comfortable place after the upheaval and stress of deciding to live together and merging their physical things. Merging more personal aspects of their lives, like feelings and shared hopes and dreams for their future together felt closer but Trevor knew that it was too soon for Ed to broach any of those sensitive subjects. Sometimes Trevor wondered if they would ever build enough between them for Ed to trust him, or even if Ed would ever trust anyone again.

…

#talesofthegoldmonkey #trade


	5. Chapter 5

Clodagh – KLOH-dah

Aislin – ASH-linn

MONDAY, April 7, 2014

He was looking at his drink, probably had not seen her yet. She glanced towards the door then searched for the bartender who was opening a new bottle of wine. She gauged the time and considered making a run for it. She looked across the bar at the familiar figure. His posture had not changed. She glanced back towards the door again, hesitating. Two things happened as she tensed her leg to push up from the barstool and make a run for it, the bartender set a full glass of wine in front of her and the gentleman across the bar glanced up and locked his intense blue eyes on her.

Too late.

…

#smut #ptsd

SUNDAY, November 23, 2008

" _I don't know what's worse, not being able to remember your attack or not being able to forget it."_

Olivia started awake with a gasp. Another dream, or nightmare rather, it came back to her in pieces, which she did not want to think about. She wanted to go back to sleep but sighed and rolled out of bed, knowing that there was absolutely zero chance of turning over and going back to sleep at this point. She padded into the kitchen in her comfy sleep pants and t-shirt and filled the tea kettle with water and set it over a burner. Olivia picked through the tea that she had picked up at a little specialty shop in Chinatown recently. The eccentric owner had recommended several items for Olivia and she picked out the blend of chamomile, turmeric and ginger that would most likely to coax her back to sleep.

She looked around the apartment. It was quiet. Too quiet. She took her tea back to the bedroom and switched on her clock radio. It was kind of redundant. Did anyone really need a clock radio anymore? Apparently it might be good for something tonight, she thought, turning the dial past all the static until she heard something audible. She should have grabbed her IPod and brought it back but the longer she was awake the less likely she was to go back to sleep. This was going to be a long three days until she went back on shift. Seventy-two hours. It certainly would not take that long to clean the apartment. It was already clean enough for her.

The dulcet tones of the radio host poured soothingly over her. No music, she thought turning to place her empty teacup on the nightstand and sliding deeper down in the bed to focus more thoughtfully on topic of conversation floating across the airwaves. It seemed to be some kind of radio call-in show and the host was speaking in soothing tones about a recent caller giving her an update after surviving an apparent deep bout with depression. Olivia felt an idea enter her head about activities that might occupy her time off just as she drifted back off to sleep.

Olivia woke up early the next morning and made an appointment to volunteer at the suicide prevention hotline during her days off. With the holidays coming up they needed extra volunteers. In recent years Olivia had let her opportunities to volunteer wane as she had been consumed by her career and cases, usually working on the holidays. She resolved to make better use of her free time. Well, life had thrown her a few curveballs lately. Maybe it would benefit her own needs to assist others through the often pain filled holidays.

" _I can protect her from the damage."_

" _No, you can't. You should know that better than anyone."_

Olivia let the words of a recent conversation wash over her then took a deep breath and tried to let the feelings go. She knew it was impossible to protect everyone. Looking around her empty apartment, she thought to herself, maybe she should work on a New Year's resolution of her own. Maybe it was time to give Dr. Beresford a call.

…

#lead

TUESDAY, February 10, 2009

Ed sat in his office thumbing through the Keppler complaint still sitting on his desk. He pushed it aside thinking he could type up his report and submit it later, what a colossal waste of time. It was pretty much a moot point now anyway. Ed shook his head. He had apologized today. He was not given that opportunity often and it actually felt refreshing, an investigation into a group of cops that actually had done their jobs following procedures and put away the bad guy, almost a novelty in his day, hell, his entire week. Well, no doubt it would come around to them again. It always did.

He picked up his cell phone, browsed through his contacts then contemplated the name in the display. Finally he selected call and waited for the voicemail to pick up again. It was obvious by now that his calls were being dodged.

"It's me. Again. I know you're angry with me and you have every right to be but I need to talk to you. It's important. Please call me back," Ed tried to think of something else to say but came up blank so he just paused like an idiot before finally just hanging up.

…

Ed left work early, took the subway towards home then changed lines heading to a little quaint coffee shop in Washington Heights. He took in the wide variety of coffees to choose from as he waited for the barista to take his order. He ordered something that looked relatively interesting but hopefully drinkable then picked a table for two in the corner to wait. Ed pulled out his phone and scrolled through the text messages to find the response that he deemed significant enough to abandon his office for the afternoon and take the one up Broadway at three in the afternoon. The text was brief, almost perfunctory, just the words "meet me for coffee" and a place and time.

He gasped a little when he saw her enter the establishment then head over to the counter and place an order. He observed while she waited, seemingly uninterested in looking at the other occupants. Her hair whipped about her shoulders abruptly as she grasped her coffee cup and turned in his direction and made a beeline straight for the table where he was sitting. She removed a large rather fashionable looking bag from her shoulder and placed it carefully across the back of her chair before taking a seat.

"What do you want?" she demanded taking a sip of her coffee, glaring at him insolently with his blue eyes.

"Gee, it's good to see you too, Saoirse," he said dryly sipping his own brew.

"You can't just come in here and expect me to treat you like you've been there all along. You don't know me anymore. You don't know a damn thing about me.

"So tell me," Ed sat back in his chair, casually crossing his legs as if he had all the time in the world to listen to his daughter tell him every detail of her life from the last seven years. She looked at him uncertainly not sure where to go from here.

"Dad, what the fuck?" Saoirse finally responded.

"Saoirse, I apologize for not making sure that you knew that I was available to you anytime you needed me. I'm sorry for the way things went down between me and your mother. I didn't handle it the right way. Obviously," Ed paused, not really sure what to say next, that was two apologies handed out in the same day. Soon he would be a pro at this.

"Dad, look, I don't care if you're homo, or bi, or pan, whatever," Saoirse started.

"Pan?" Ed questioned. "What the hell is that? Some kind of daddy complex?"

"No, Dad," Saoirse said rolling her eyes at her father's lack of awareness. "It's when you're attracted to someone regardless of their gender identity." Ed continued to give her a confused look.

"There's a difference?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, you know, like if you wanted to date someone like that chick from that weird Kevin Spacey movie you like, what was her name? Lady Chelsea or something or other," Saoirse explained. Ed's eyes widened.

"Okay. I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable with this conversation now, can we move on to the point?" Ed said awkwardly.

"Show up!" Saoirse exclaimed. "That's the point."

Ed's eyes widened again and he looked around self-consciously. "Alright. Message received," Ed sighed. "How do you propose I do that and still keep the younger ones free of your mother's tirades about me?"

"Well, you and Cillian have managed to find a way to communicate without having any sort of problem, right?" Saoirse confirmed. "We just have to find a way for you to do the same with Clodagh. She's a lot less assertive than Cillian, and she's seriously afraid of setting Mom off."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Ed agreed. "I'd appreciate any ideas that you might have on that front. She's more of a homebody and I definitely can't just show up at the house. Your mother would scream the place down if she found me there."

"Maybe we can figure out something for her to do with Nana that might give you the opportunity to see her more often. I'll think about it." Saoirse said thoughtfully. "You're real problem is going to be Aislin, ya know."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that. Neither you nor Cillian have said a word about Aislin. What's going on with her? Is she okay?" Ed asked resignedly.

"She's angry. So am I."

"Yes, you made that abundantly clear, Saoirse. I am well aware of your feelings on the matter." Ed said ruefully.

"But Aislin, she's angry at the world, angry with you, angry with Mom, angry with everyone. She won't talk to me, or Clodagh or Cillian about any of it. The more Cillian comes to see you the angrier she gets with you and with him. Don't worry though, she'd never tell Mom or let it slip and cause a problem for Cillian. I think she wishes she had been brave enough to just show up at your place," Saoirse confided.

"So why doesn't she?" Ed asked.

"You're going to have to make the first move with her, Dad, and the second, and the third, for however long it takes. Girl holds a grudge. Mom grounded her last month when we snuck out to go to a party and she got caught but I didn't. I'll never hear the end of it."

Ed leveled his piercing blue gaze on his eldest daughter and crossed his arms in his most intimidating posture. She merely returned his look with the same intensity until Ed's eyes start to crinkle around the edges and with his lips still firmly planted together tries to keep from chuckling at his own daughter returning his standard death stare with her own.

"Alright, alright," he finally said, lifting his hand in her direction, "apparently that doesn't work on you anymore, and I guess I don't really wanna know about this party."

Saoirse stuck her tongue out at him and reached for her coffee.

"So, Cillian says you're editor of the school paper this year," Ed said proudly, "How do you like it?"

"It's more of a group class project for journalism class, I'm just kind of the team leader," she replied. "It's been a lot more work than I expected and along with my blog, I'm just too busy for any other extra activities this year."

"Blog?"

"Yeah, I started it a couple of years ago as a project for a composition class, but it really took off earlier last year and I got a bunch of sponsors. It's been very lucrative. That will really help with college."

"Yeah, I wanted to talk with you a little about that. Do you know where you're going? Where have you applied?"

"Columbia, CUNY, NYU, Emerson and Berkley," she listed off various schools.

"Berkeley?" Ed questioned and felt a rush of anxiety flood over him. Selfish, he knew, but the idea that Saoirse would be an adult and finally able to see him at will only to relocate to the West Coast was heartbreaking.

"My other choices were all pretty much local so I thought I should go for at least one college elsewhere and they have a good journalism department."

"Did you visit the campus?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, Mom, Uncle Owen and Emma went with me last fall to visit the campus and look around. Still, I don't think I'm a California girl. I'm too New York."

Ed smiled at this admission, a girl after his own heart. Ed liked to travel and visit other places but he never felt at home the way he did in New York City. After being away from it for almost a decade, he just could not imagine living anywhere else.

"About tuition," Ed started.

"Depends on where I go but Nana's got at least a year covered. Local and practical are probably the best choices since there are four of us to put through college, that will stretch the money and we won't need room and board," Saoirse shrugged. "CUNY would probably be best but I'm thinking I'd rather go to NYU even if it does cost almost double."

"I know Ma set up funds for all her grandchildren but I did the same for the four of you. I had some money saved up after I got out of the army. I used part of it to supplement my own college, part for the down payment on the house and the rest I put away for you guys to go to college."

"We didn't even exist yet." Saoirse said surprised that her father had started saving money for them over a decade before she was even born.

"I know. But I knew I wanted you and I wanted to give you the choice to do it another way. I'm not even sure I can send one of you to Columbia for four years but I can probably manage to get you through NYU with Ma's help and hopefully some scholarships?" he looked at her in askance.

"I'm hoping for some awards with relation to the paper plus I have the blog money," Saoirse added selflessly, "If I can pay as much of my own way as possible then that will leave more of yours and Nana's money for the others."

"Exactly how lucrative is this blog?" Ed asked surprised that Saoirse suggested it would help save tuition money for her siblings.

Saoirse looked uncomfortable and proceeded to study the seam in her coffee cup.

"Saoirse?"

"Umm…I could probably pay my own way through Columbia for a couple of years…so far," she said biting her lip and looking up at him.

"What the hell?" Ed exclaimed then looked around mumbling a sorry at the glances from the other patrons. He lowered his voice. "Does your mother know? What the hell is this blog about?"

"Well, I ended up using the blog on another project for my sociology class, a study on certain types of behavior," Saoirse said. "Most of our grade on the project depended on how much traffic we got on our blog so I aimed the subject matter at a particular group then I asked for interviews from some high profile people which ended up doubling as a journalism project too, which led to me making team leader of the newspaper. And no, Mom does not know what my blog is about, she calls it my little writing project and I'm sure she thinks it probably about clothes or some shit."

"Quit talking around the question, Saoirse," Ed pursed his lips and stared at her intently until she relented.

"Okay, okay. I made a huge mistake on my second blog post but it ended up turning out to be a blessing in disguise, I guess. I was hanging out in a chatroom online one night and one of the other kids in the room started talking about suicide. He goes to another school but I managed to get him to agree to meet me after school the next day."

"Saoirse, do we need to have a discussion about the safety of meeting people on the internet in person?" Ed groaned putting his head in his hands.

"No, Dad, I was careful. I picked a public place and met him for coffee just like I'm doing with you today."

"You know I'm not an Internet predator," Ed pointed out self-righteously.

"Do I?" Saoirse asked raising an eyebrow at him, "I don't know what you are these days, now do I? Do you want to hear this story or not?"

Ed gestured with a hand to continue and kept his mouth shut.

"The next day I talked to my sociology teacher and told her what happened. She sent me to speak to a counselor that she knows that deals with teen suicide prevention, I talked to him about what to say then I went to meet this boy."

"Wouldn't it have been better if he had taken this meeting? He would have been better prepared to…" Ed stopped when Saoirse raised her hand in his direction.

"Dad," she warned, "they thought he would get spooked if someone other than a teenage girl showed up. But he was close by and just a phone call or text away when I went to meet the boy. Anyways," she gave her father a pointed look and he mimicked zipping his mouth shut, "I talked to this kid, turns out that he been outed. His family freaked and he was getting seriously bullied in school. I mean, some really cruel pranks. Just having someone to vent to without judging him seemed to make him feel better. I did end up giving him the counselor's number and I told him to call me if he ever wanted to talk about what was going on. I was so overwhelmed by everything that I heard from this kid and I couldn't get it out of my mind so I wrote it all down and put it in my blog…without telling anyone what I was doing." She looked guiltily at Ed.

"Saoirse," Ed started to admonish her.

"I wasn't thinking about him. I was processing. I didn't use his name or anything," she started to defend herself, "I know, I know it was wrong. I shouldn't have posted it publically without talking to him. The response was overwhelming, both negative and positive. I thought at first that I might have to shut down the blog because people can be so hateful, but then the supportive comments started rolling in, more and more kids, and adults too, that have been through the same situation and it just spiraled into…I guess I created a monster. That's when I knew I had to tell the boy what I had done before he heard about it from someone else. He was really mad at first and I thought he wasn't going to listen to anything else I said but when I told him that it kept someone else from committing suicide, he was shocked. I showed him some of the supportive responses and when he looked at them and realized how much his story had helped others like him, he wanted to help. So I set up another blog post, interview-style, which led to another blog post where we took audience questions. Then I had requests for some other type of guests on the blog and it literally has turned into a discussion on issues and just about anything else that pertains to young adults in alternative lifestyles."

"So the money comes from ads aimed at teenagers and other young people who frequent your site?" Ed asked.

"I could probably get a lot more but I've been limiting the types of ads, trying to keep it local and to products and services that are actually positive and helpful to my readers, and I have space for the helplines and free counseling services, too."

"And taxes, do you understand what you need to do there? Is one of your teachers helping you?"

"My journalism teacher gave me some information about what to do when he realized exactly how much it had taken off. It kind of took us all by surprise. I still have a lot to figure out and I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing. I think I need to set up an LLC."

"Trevor can help you with all that. Let's set up a time when he's available, maybe you can come over and we can get it all set up for you and look at what you owe. You still have more than six weeks until tax day but let's not wait until last minute. College acceptance letters start coming in and you're going to get distracted by planning other stuff. Speaking of distracted..."

"So Trevor is the boyfriend, huh?" Saoirse asked.

"I guess you could call him that," Ed admitted, still feeling uncomfortable putting a label on their relationship.

"Cillian says that he's an attorney."

"Yeah, he's an attorney."

"What kind of attorney?"

"Criminal law."

"Gee, Dad, you sure are forthcoming," she mocked.

Ed gave her a look then continued with a little more information. "He represents a lot of white collar type criminals. People with money so he knows a lot about this kind of stuff. Where is the money? How does your mother not know about it? Her name has to be on your bank account right? You're a minor."

"She cosigned for my checking account when I got a summer job sophomore year. I asked her to sign for a savings account too the next year and she just laughed at me and made some snide comment about my being stingy with money, just like you. She probably thought I just had a couple hundred dollars not thousands. After the first couple of statements, I signed up for paperless and they come straight to my personal email account so she doesn't see them."

"Wow. So you don't think that your mom has ever seen your blog or looked at your bank account. I do not even want to think about the stuff that you kids are getting away with without our knowledge. This is just…UGH," Ed rubbed his eyes and looked at his daughter shaking his head. Maybe he needed to rethink his ideas on Siobhan parenting skills instead of giving her the benefit of the doubt. She was obviously not on top of things in the way he had previously thought. "This is so not the kind of stuff that I was hiding from my parents when I was your age." Ed sighed more concerned than ever, "Sweetheart, about all these issues that you're talking about on your blog, suicide prevention, bullying, sexuality, this is some pretty heavy stuff. Are you doing okay with that? Do you have everything you need to deal with this kind of thing? You mentioned counselors, are they helping you deal with it too?"

"I'm okay, Dad. Everyone needs someone to listen to them, including me. I keep in touch with the counselors but they're so short-handed. I've been trying to recruit more volunteers for the helpline. They always need more people to answer the phones and listen. Cillian wants to start volunteering as soon as they'll let him. He's still too young."

"Cillian would be good at that."

"Yeah, he will."

"So, plans for the summer…" Ed managed to look both sheepish and expectant at the same time.

"Just getting ready for college and working on my blog and the hotline," Saoirse replied shrugging it off.

"Well, it just so happens, that I have a graduation present for you," Ed said taking an envelope out of his pocket. "This is a voucher for two tickets for you and a person of your choosing to spend ten days in Ireland this summer. You just have to book the dates. Let me know and we'll talk about hotels and I'll foot the bill for those as well."

"You're giving me a trip to Ireland for graduation?" Saoirse gave him an incredulous look.

"Yeah. Personally, I would love to take you to Ireland myself, see the mother country along with you, but I understand if you're not comfortable with that yet. You're going to be eighteen and I suppose you're capable of that all by yourself now," Ed reluctantly sighed.

"But you really want to be the other person for the second ticket?" she said giving him suspicious look.

"No, not at all, those tickets are for you and your best friend Emma or whoever you want to take, I'd buy another ticket for myself. You don't even have to sit with me. You can even have a room on the opposite side of the hotel from me. Just don't make me have all my meals by myself?" he asked tentatively to see if she might go for it. Saoirse was quick to anger and quick to forgive but this might be too soon to ask her to let him accompany her to a foreign country for ten days.

"Let me think about it," she said still eyeing him suspiciously while looking at the contents of the envelope he had handed her. "I get these two tickets regardless?"

"Yes, those are all yours. No strings attached," Ed confirmed.

"Okay. I'll let you know," she said and started gathering her belongings. "I'll text you about a time to come over and talk to your boy-friend," she said drawing out the word with a sly smile, "about the money stuff."

"Yeah, you do that."

…

"Sorry I kept you waiting," Trevor slid into the booth across from Ed in the local Irish pub and eyed the empty pint sitting in front of him. Before he could continue a waitress slid another pint in front of Ed, picked up the empty glass and looked at Trevor expectantly. Trevor eyed the dark tone of the beer now sitting in front of Ed and ordered a Guinness. "How was your day?"

"Unbelievable," Ed replied with an unusually wide smile.

"So Saoirse showed?" Trevor smiled back at him. He'd been surprised when Ed had texted him to relay the news that his eldest had finally agreed to see him after months of voicemails and unanswered texts.

"She did," Ed replied eagerly. "She's such a remarkable young lady. The things that she told me about her life just blew my mind. Speaking of…I hope you don't mind but I volunteered your expertise to help her set up an LLC and get her taxes in order."

"Huh?" Trevor asked picking up the beer that the waitress had placed in front of him.

"Can I get you guys some food or …" she asked. Ed ordered a chicken sandwich and a side salad while Trevor asked for the fish and chips.

"So Saoirse has what she called a 'lucrative' blog," Ed told Trevor. "Some project she started for a class and it took off and is apparently making good money, enough for her to pay for a good portion of her own college education."

"Wow! That's some serious entrepreneurship right there."

"Yeah, and get this, the blog is about alternative lifestyles. She gave me the link to look up but I gotta tell ya, I'm a little afraid of what's on there. This is my kid and she was asking me shit about my own lifestyle and I didn't understand what she was talking about half of the time."

Trevor's eyes widened. "What does her mom think about all this?"

"She says she doesn't know. How can she not know?" Ed replied incredulously throwing his hands out exasperatedly. "What is Siobhan doing? Her daughter has a blog that is making thousands of dollars and she doesn't know about the money or the subject matter. Thank God on the last one or we may have a permanent houseguest soon. I'm not so sure that's a bad idea actually."

"So, are you thinking about challenging Siobhan to exercise your rights to visitation?" Trevor pushed.

"Uh, I'm not sure that's the way I would put it. I think that I'm making headway with Saoirse. In a few months, she'll be free to see me whenever and she said she'd think about letting me accompany her on the trip to Ireland."

"Ed, that's great." Trevor smiled with enthusiastic support for his partner.

"Aislin is going to be a tough nut to crack."

"Gee, so unlike yourself," Trevor remarked.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Cillian is working around things just fine in his own way and Clodagh, well, we're still trying to figure out how to get things moving along there, but I'm hopeful."

"Okay so no legal maneuvers at this point," Trevor ascertained.

"I think it would be best if we just operate under the radar, so to speak," Ed commented, leaning back in a more relaxed state and sipping his pint.

"Okay, so long as this is moving forward, I won't push you to make any legal overtures." The waitress returned to the table with their food. Trevor started to pick up a piece of fish with his fingers and quickly dropped it. "Wow, that's hot."

"Hmm…" Ed laughed at him suggestively.

"Speaking of…" Trevor trailed off, looked around and took a deep breath, "Is something going on with Benson?"

"What do you mean?" Ed asked concerned. "Did you hear something?"

"Okay. It might not be anything and you didn't hear this from me…" Trevor paused and looked around again as if he were expecting their fellow patrons to be eavesdropping, "is there some reason that she would be in a therapy group for rape survivors? Maybe she's working undercover or something?"

"I don't know," Ed replied looking disconcerted, "I'm not kept abreast of all undercover operations of every department, you know. What did you hear?"

"Well, I have a client. No names. She's a pro bono case, workman's comp. She got injured on a construction job. Anyways, she said that a few months ago, a member of her therapy group turned out to be a cop and she tried to bust her for carrying. The cop sounded a lot like Benson when she described her to me."

"What kind of therapy group?" Ed asked.

"It's a therapy group for military rape victims with PTSD."

…

#selfish #persona

FRIDAY, April 3, 2009

"So you're representing the anti-vaxxer mom?" Sandy gave him a sardonic look.

"You too?" Trevor said incredulously. "Do you want other people telling us how to raise our children? What we're doing is working. I'm happy, you're happy?" he looked at her for confirmation and she smirked in return and nodded her head. "The children are happy and thriving. It's not the 'traditional family' everyone is always going on about. Omigod, daddy lives with a man, the children will be scarred," Trevor plastered a look of mock horrified indignation on his face.

Sandy laughed at him and mock shoved his arm. It did not budge and she turned to look at him with surprise. "Wow, have you been working out?"

"Yeah, well, just trying to keep up," Trevor said looking a little sheepish then admitted, "Ed's almost half a foot shorter and almost a decade older than me and he can take me down in less than ten seconds if he has a mind to do so."

"And why would he want to do that?" Sandy tried to mask the concern on her face by turning around and starting to clear the plates leftover from the boys' snack off the island and into the dishwasher.

"Uh, because I challenged him to?" Trevor said back pedaling his train of thought, which was probably classified as too much information to share even with an amicable ex.

Sandy just shook her head, shooting him a grin. "Men and their competitiveness."

"Oh, cause you're not competitive at all," Trevor pressed his lips tightly together and slowly shook his head back and forth in an exaggerated manner.

Sandy snapped a kitchen towel in his direction.

"And she worries that I'm being abused at home," Trevor mocked, "while actually abusing me here."

"Not funny," Sandy said, turning a serious face at him. "I think the lady that came to see me today is a victim of domestic violence."

"New client?" Trevor asked concerned at the look on his ex-spouse's face.

"I don't know," she said wringing the towel in her hand then starting to wipe down the counters. "I have a feeling I may never see her again but I hope that's not the case. I know it's only April but she was totally buttoned up. She had two little boys the same age as ours and no job of her own, completely dependent on what appears to be a rather successful husband. Tragic to think about a woman trapped in that situation with no means to get out."

Trevor pushed both of his hands into his pants pockets and looked around at the condo, walking towards the windows to take in the familiar view. He suddenly wondered if the boys got confused as to whose home they were in sometimes. It was almost eerie how at home he felt in this condo when he had never even really been there for more than thirty minutes at a time. He continued to contemplate the view as he asked Sandy, "Security at your firm is good, right?"

"Yes, Trev, the security is state of the art. Our firm specializes in family law, we're prepared for the sometimes overly passionate confrontations that can escalate from such volatile situations," she stopped and fixated on his back which was turned to the room. "Something else wrong?"

Trevor sighed and turned back towards the room and head back to the kitchen. "Just thinking about an old client…" Trevor shuddered trying to shake off the memory of the way Latimer's marriage came to an abrupt end after his wife recanted her accusation of abuse against him. That was one murder case that he hadn't been sorry to lose, the son of a bitch had been too smug to take a plea. He continued with his train of thought to start the story that he wanted to tell Sandy. "One of my colleagues from law school, Matt, you may remember him?"

"Yeah," she said. "He used to go to concerts with you so I didn't have to, right?"

"Yep, that's the one. He drove down to Charlotte with me to see Jethro Tull back in '98, I think? He had a sweet ride, a Lotus, broke all our hearts when it ended up totaled in a field. Long story. Anyways, he practices family law in this quaint little town down south somewhere now. Name escapes me at the moment, office right on Main Street, directly across from the courthouse. Sounded like a nice setup. Some husband of one of his clients just walked in right off the street and started firing over the receptionist's desk directly at the wall behind it. That was the back wall of his office. Luckily the receptionist had taken a late lunch for a doctor's appointment so she wasn't sitting there at the time. Scared the shit out of his paralegal, her desk was about twenty feet away but directly adjacent. She had a view of the whole thing. She ran screaming to the back of the office and called 911 from the break room but he'd already fled."

"Oh my god. Was anyone injured? Is Matt okay?" Sandy placed a hand on Trevor's arm and gave him a squeeze.

"He's fine. Everyone's fine. The only damage was to the wall. Physical damage anyway. No one in that office will ever forget it," Trevor looked contemplatively at the hand Sandy was now rubbing down his arm consolingly then placed his own over it. "Be careful. I don't want my boys growing up without their mother."

"You're one to talk about being careful. You're the one who represents criminals. Most of my client's spouses are people who just stopped caring about their marriage," Sandy pointed out.

"And most of my criminal clients are rich white men more likely to take their own life than mine if I lose their case and they end up not so rich," Trevor replied, "My point is desperate people are capable of any number of unimaginable things. What was that guy's problem? Had he shown signs of mental illness before his wife went to a divorce lawyer? I don't know but given the situation it's easy to speculate that he could have once been just a normal guy. Why did he get a gun and shoot up a law firm? Was it out of desperation? Was he jealous? Did he think his wife was having an affair? Did they have kids? Was he afraid that he was going to lose them? Never see his kids again? What does it take to make a guy break from reality, blame his wife's divorce lawyer and think that getting rid of said lawyer will solve his problems?"

"I don't know, Trev, you can speculate about why people do the things they do all day but like you said, we are not in control of other people's actions. My firm has great security and they are trained to have a heightened awareness of the probability of desperate spouses and parents trying to get to our clients during their appointments or even at us. Don't worry about me. I'm careful to avoid those kinds of confrontations. I know how dangerous they can be."

"Okay. Just so you know. I care about you. Just because we weren't happy as a married couple does not mean that you are not one of the most important people in my life. You're the mother of my children and a treasured friend."

"Speaking of married people…"

Trevor raised a brow in her direction.

"Ken and I have an anniversary coming up and we're going to have a little party to celebrate. Can we count you in?"

"What is this, five years?" Trevor asked and as she started to nod he began to rib her. "Isn't that in bad taste? Inviting your ex to celebrate how happy you are without him?"

"Stop. I am not without you, obviously, I can't seem to get rid of you. Here you are," she teased back. "Do I need to plan on a plus one?" she asked glancing up towards the ceiling.

"I'll let you know."

"How's that going?" Sandy moved back into the kitchen and started pulling items from the pantry to prepare for dinner.

"It's going," he shrugged.

Sandy gave him a curious look.

"Slow, I guess. He's a…tough nut to crack but I knew that going in."

"Well, then, if you think he's worth it, you'll just have to be patient."

"I have the patience of Job," Trevor replied with innocent wide eyes placing his hand over his heart.

"Yeah, right. Sure you do," Sandy snorted. "So…do you still go out seeking companionship of the female persuasion or is it just you and him now?"

"Nosy little ex-wife today, aren't we?" Trevor deflected the inquiry.

"I'm just curious and don't think I didn't notice you dodging that question. If you don't want to tell me, just say it's none of my business," Sandy eyed the ingredients on the countertop trying to figure out what she could prepare with them.

"Yes, we do occasionally go out and seek female companionship."

"Together?" Sandy turned to look at him surprised.

"Yes, together," Trevor confirmed looking at her quizzically. "I didn't tell you about how we met?"

"I assumed it was through a case."

"Technically, yes, originally it was through a case but that's not when we started seeing each other socially," Trevor smiled to himself in remembrance.

"Oh-oh. What's that look?"

"What look?" Trevor looked back at her his eyes widening innocently and clamped his lips together. "I don't have a look." Then he laughed and admitted, "Ed turned me down the first time I asked him. After the case."

"No! How dare he? Who on earth would turn you down?" she said laughing.

"I know, right? I'm adorable," Trevor laughed with her, throwing his arms out away from his body and gesturing his palms up. "Seriously though, I was out with another colleague, a female colleague, and she picked him up at the bar for a threesome."

"Oh! So he turned you down but not her and then he took you just because he had to in order to get her, is that it?" she teased.

The light-hearted look on Trevor's face changed in an instant.

"Whoa! Hold on there. I didn't mean anything by that. I was just teasing you," Sandy placated trying to backpedal. "Is that what you're worried about? That Ed is bisexual but that he prefers women and he's just biding his time with you until he's ready to try again?"

Trevor shot her a guilty look.

"That's it, isn't it? That's what you're worried about?" Sandy looked concerned about him again. She threw a look back at the boys playing near the windows behind the couch and backed up into the kitchen drawing Trevor along with her. She opened the last cabinet up against the window and pointed to the top shelf. "I think you need a drink, grab that for me will ya?"

Trevor shot her another look then reached up to the top shelf and pulled down the bottle of Macallan's Ken had stowed up there. Sandy grabbed a tumbler from the lower shelf, took the bottle from him and poured a finger for him. She took a sip for herself then handed it to him. He downed it in one shot and she poured him a little more before capping the bottle and handing it back to him. He placed it back on the top shelf, closed the door and leaned back against the counter, glancing back out into the living space making sure the boys were still preoccupied with their playtime.

"Do you have a preference?" Sandy asked Trevor giving him something else to focus on while he tried to get a handle on his emotions.

"I don't think so. I asked you out because I liked you. I married you because I loved you and thought I would be happy having a family with you, which I am, we just didn't like to do the same things anymore. We outgrew each other and lost that connection somewhere along the way. I like co-parenting with you. I like being able to talk to you like this again, I just…" Trevor tried to explain.

"Don't want to sit on the couch doing watching me quilt then go to sleep on your own side of the bed?" Sandy always got hot at night and could not stand to have another warm body within a foot of her. Trevor liked to sleep cuddled up and never could quite get used to staying on his own side of the bed after making love. It felt foreign to him. "I know, I know, its not that simple but you know what I mean." She gestured her hand about a little then asked, "And Ed?"

"Look it has nothing to do with you being a woman or him being a man. I fall in love with the person…" Trevor tried to explain then stopped at the words.

"Do you?" Sandy pressed after realizing where he stopped in the middle of his sentence. "Do you love Ed?"

"I think so," Trevor said then started to shake his head negatively, "but I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure that he's ever going to trust anyone enough to commit again and I think if I tell him that I love him that he'll think I expect something of him," Trevor explained.

"He committed to sharing a home with you," Sandy pointed out.

"That's just real estate. We were practically living in each other's pockets at that point. It just made sense to relocate somewhere together for efficiency's sake."

"At least that's what you told each other, right?" she said.

"Look, I know that Ed cares for me. He's very affectionate with gestures, even thoughtful in his actions, but words. I don't think those are his forte, at least not where personal emotions are involved"

"Ed seems perfectly sociable and easily communicative to me, the few times I've met him," Sandy observed. "Maybe a little awkward, but meeting the ex has to be stressful for anyone and given the history he has with his ex, I can't blame him for that."

"Ed can talk with the best of them, don't get me wrong. Before he was with IAB, he was a hostage negotiator. Those guys are personally picked because they can talk your ear off about anything and everything and they're trained to know exactly which topics to avoid and why," Trevor said pointedly.

"Ah, so he's an expert at avoiding the question."

"Got it in one. If he even suspects that I'm about to bring up an uncomfortable topic, I suddenly find myself misdirected and have no idea how I got there." Trevor shook his head.

"Are you saying that he knows how to push your buttons?" Sandy asked trying to lighten the topic of conversation a bit.

"Quite easily if he wants to dodge the question, and it works most of the time," Trevor admitted.

"Does he see his children at all?" Sandy asked in a concerned voice.

"Cillian, that's the boy, has been covertly visiting the condo at least once a month since last summer. His mother doesn't know. We've also been going to some of his swim meets. Ed's talked to Clodagh, the boy's twin, on his phone while Cillian visited a few times. She's shy and doesn't want their mother to know she's had any contact with him at all. He got to see her in person for a few minutes over the holidays when they were over at his mom's house. I think Caroline has a few more "accidental" run-ins planned for them coming up. Aislin still isn't speaking to him. However, his oldest, Saoirse, turns eighteen this week and we are officially flouting mom's "rules" and taking her out for a birthday dinner on Friday night…and," Trevor paused dramatically, "Ed is taking Saoirse and her best friend, Emma, to Ireland for two weeks during the summer as a graduation present."

"Damn. That's a boat load of kids!"

"You know it, and I think he would do it all over again. Ed comes from a big family and he adores kids. I could see him getting remarried and starting all over again. Maybe that's the problem. I can see it too easily." Trevor sighed to himself and rubbed his hand down his face, pausing at the stubble along his jaw to worry his fingers across it. He looked speculatively at Sandy. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you and Ken want any more rugrats?" Trevor smiled.

"Nope, we're good with these two. What about you? You say you can see Ed with another family. Would you want that with him?"

"Me? Can't you just see me all bloated and pregnant?" Trevor laughed.

"I'm being serious here. There are ways for the two of you to have kids if you want. Hell, if you guys find the right woman, you could have it all."

"What? You mean like a permanent threesome?" Trevor asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not? It's called a triad by the way. I did some paperwork for one recently. It's all very complicated to work out and not all of it may hold up in court but this couple…"she paused to correct herself, "triad…came in and wanted everything worked out on paper, their bank accounts, their property, their children, custody of their kids, their wills, everything all distributed evenly. They've been together as a threesome for over fifteen years and they have two children. They have no idea which guy is the biological father and they don't want to know, but due to some recent issues with a work-related accident with one of the guys, it came to their attention that if something were to happen to two of them and one of the children was biologically proven not be the remaining parent's, well, let's just say they're afraid that certain family members would not respect their wishes to keep their children both together and with the remaining parent."

"Shit," Trevor said. "Is there a legal marriage in there anywhere?"

"No, and they refuse to get married since only two would be recognized by the state legally. Neither guy wants to be the "primary" and make the other partner feel like they're secondary so they put everything down in writing. Documents signed and witnessed by a judge and two other individuals. Good luck to the person who tries to break my contract. I'll welcome the challenge."

"I'm sure you will," Trevor said proudly. "If Ed and I should be so lucky to find ourselves in that miraculous circumstance, we know exactly who should draw up all the docs."

"Damn straight." Sandy smiled. "Say, how come you never invited me to one of those?"

"One of what?" Trevor asked.

"Threesomes, ménage a trois, throuples, whatever you call it."

"Would you have wanted to?" Trevor asked surprised.

"Uh, no," Sandy said.

"Then why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard a few things about you before you asked me out. I was actually kind of nervous about it, but you never brought it up. I guess at some point I just assumed those were unsubstantiated rumors until you just mentioned that you and Ed participated in threesomes and now I'm assuming they weren't rumors. The things you don't know about your spouse," she laughingly shook her head.

"You knew I was bisexual," Trevor pointed out.

"That's not the same thing," she retorted.

"No, it's not. And to answer your question, number one you were my wife and I didn't want to share you and before that when we were just dating, I didn't think you were the type to want a threesome, and apparently I was right so, neh," he said sticking his tongue out at her, "but once I was single again, I remembered I had enjoyed them in college and thought why not. I didn't think about looking for a more permanent threesome though. That's an interesting idea. I'm not sure how it would work in the long term but it's worth thinking about if Ed and I keep moving forward together and he does still want a family. I wouldn't even know how to look for a woman that would want that. Most of the women we pick up are just looking for a good time for the evening. That's all. Career first and all that."

"Well, in the meantime, patience is a virtue," Sandy reminded him.

"Hmm," Trevor opened Sandy's refrigerator and looked at her produce. He threw a package of mushrooms and spinach on the counter along with avocado, jalapeno and cilantro. "Enjoy your black bean tacos."

"That's the reason I bought those! I knew you were good for something," Sandy laughed.

"Anyways, thank you for your latest referral," Trevor smiled at his ex-wife as he finally reached the purpose of this conversation.

"Well, who else would I refer one of my divorcee's to when they are arrested for murder?" she asks facetiously.

Trevor started to make his way towards the door of the condo. "Oh, by the way, are the children all up to date on their vaccinations?" Trevor said over his shoulder to her a little too nonchalantly.

Sandy gave him a sardonic look and replied "Umm-hmmm."

"Just checking."

"Umm-hmmm."

Trevor laughed a little at himself with his ex-wife then opened the door calling out one last goodbye to the boys and a "love you" as he exited the condo and traveled back up the elevator to his own condo directly five floors above.

AN: I don't know about you but I always love to watch #grantingimmunity after seeing #selfish and reflect on how Olivia changes her opinion on this issue after becoming a parent.

Additional note: I probably won't make a habit of apologizing for taking a long time to update but consider this an apology for this and for the next chapter in advance. I have had this chapter written for quite a while now but just could not bring myself to proof-read it at all in the wake of my favorite musician's death and the cause (eerie, right?). It's not up to my usual editing standards but here it is anyway. I am leaving for a two week twentieth anniversary trip to Paris tomorrow (research for a future chapter :) and will not be thinking about chapter six until after I get back. So be patient for the next update hint: #perverted


End file.
